Like a Forever Wandering Bird
by AislinCeivun
Summary: Merlin is coping with living after the events of Camlann. With time, he realizes that the 'living' part is actually a lot more than what he'd bargained for. (Merlin/Arthur pre-slash; full summary inside)
1. That old thread, he lets go

(Available for reading on **AO3** and **LJ** as well /with some graphics/. Links on my profile!)

**Title::** Like a Forever Wandering Bird

**Author::** Aislin

**Fandom::** Merlin (BBC)

**Pairing::** Merlin's non-romantic relationships with various canon and original characters. Also M/A pre-slash; though it's more like a very obese interlude.

**Rated::** PG-13

**Length::** 4 chapters (75 000 words)

**Genre::** Slice of Life, Angst/Drama, Gen, Friendship, Romance, Historical

**Disclaimer:: **I doesn't own anything from the show. If I did, the last 10 minutes of the final would certainly not happen the way they did.

**Warnings::** post-series, immortal!Merlin, loneliness, depression, character death (not Merlin), some really slight slash, violence, implied rape of a side character

**A/N::** I originally wanted to write a Merthur twoshot, the first part of which would've been this one. Then it just started to grow and grow like the untamed beast it is, and now it is one enormous monster that is expecting more siblings to come!

Long story short, I decided to set up a series called "_f_eathers" that will feature all these loosely connected stories, all of which can be read as stand-alone. This is the first one, detailing Merlin's journey through the centuries.

Also, I'm greatly indebted to mollrach13 and pawpawpaku who were kind enough to beta-read my work and detect the horrible mistakes I committed against the English language – for that, I thank you, dears! You both helped me an awful lot! Any remaining mistakes are solely my own.

**Summary:: **

Merlin is coping with living after the events of Camlann. With time, he realizes that the 'living' part is actually a lot more than what he'd bargained for.

{1st main story of _f_eathers}

* * *

1.

That old thread, he lets go

.

After all the remaining tears dry, Merlin screams. The long, heart-wrenching roar that cuts into the air from the depths of his throat is full of raw emotions – pain, shock, wrath, agony, regret, terror, remorse and most of all, grief – and leaves the earth quaking and rumbling. The ground creaks and cracks, the sky turns pitch-black and thunder starts crashing. There is no flash of lighting though, not anymore. Everything is dark and black for Merlin.

He doesn't move an inch from the Lake of Avalon for two days. His stomach doesn't even growl anymore, like it understands that Merlin doesn't give a damn about such an irrelevant thing as _hunger _in a world where he is numb from the loss of his King, his other side. His Arthur.

* * *

On the third day, when his body is nearly collapsing from lack of food, Merlin finally looks for nourishment. It takes him exactly two minutes to _see forwards_ and find a rabbit, half a minute to get it captured, and a further ten minutes to walk through the woods to it. When he is there he wants to kill it with the use of his magic so he can make it painless for the animal, but when he raises his hand and puts it above the rabbit's nervously stirring ears he can't quite find it in himself to go through with it. Merlin just stands there, looking at the little creature full life, and something pulls his heart right down to his stomach. A terrible feeling fills him, cold and ugly, and it dawns on Merlin that he can't be responsible for the death of a living thing, not now, not like this. Not when he is in such deep mourning with every cell of his body.

He sets the rabbit free, and it flees without so much as a glance back. Merlin cannot say he blames it.

So Merlin walks back to the lake, sits down on the grass in front of it and just looks at the Isle for as long as his body can take it; which is not a long time, to be honest, as Merlin hasn't afforded himself a wink of sleep for what feels like years. He doesn't want to sleep, fearing what his dreams might show him if he closes his eyes, but fatigue finally seems to overcome his stubborn determination. His head bobs, his eyelashes flutter, and his eyelids suddenly feel terribly heavy…

When he opens his eyes next time, he sees the grey of the sky before him. He lies on his back on the earth-smelling grass, and has to blink a couple of times to get rid of the cold pearls of liquid which are sitting softly on his lashes. The wet feeling won't go away, though, no matter how hard he rubs at his eyes.

Merlin sits up, looks at the Isle, and the remaining fragments of his dreams suddenly fill him. He laughs a choking, humourless laugh. The reason he didn't dare to let himself sleep before was because he was afraid of dreaming about the death of his other half. But he didn't dream about that after all; he dreamed about all of their happy times at Camelot, their banters, their adventures. _Thank you, _says a small voice in his head which is most definitely not his own. _Thank you thank you thank you…_

The sour laugh dies on his lips, and now Merlin is really choking from emotions.

He shouldn't have been afraid. Not when happy memories make his chest so tight from aching that compared to them, nightmares seem decidedly more bearable.

* * *

During one of his strongest moments Merlin captures another rabbit, and this time he doesn't let himself hesitate. After a softly whispered spell the animal closes its eyes and stills. Merlin doesn't give time for regret to come; he swiftly grabs the carcass and brings it back to the lake.

He cleans it adeptly like always, and then places the meat above his small fire. Once the food is ready and Merlin starts eating, his empty stomach lets out a final rumble, and Merlin unconsciously hums in pleasure.

The first few mouthfuls are wonderful. He swallows and swallows, and slowly feels his hunger subside. When he takes another bite after finishing half the rabbit however, he makes a grave mistake: he looks up, sets his eyes on the faraway Isle and absently lets the memory of Arthur enter his mind.

At that second something terrible swirls in him, wrenching his soul with ice-cold claws. The taste of the meat turns sour and bitter; his body tenses. He shivers, and then suddenly feels really sick. He stumbles into the woods and throws up in front of the nearest tree. The forest is quiet around him, and even if there are birds present they're all dead silent, making the ugly noise of Merlin's retching sound all the louder.

He still feels faintish by the time he gets back to his small camp. He can't even bear looking at the remains of his meal so he just quickly makes it vanish. He throws himself onto the grass then, and buries his sweaty head in his trembling hands.

He doesn't have tears for Arthur anymore (he was a sobbing wreck for the prat for _days_, god; he can almost hear what his friend would say to him about the matter), but then he thinks about the now lost meal Gaius had promised him at their final moments… and for the first time since Arthur's death, a few drops of tears manage to find their path to Merlin's cheek again.

* * *

It takes him a week to build up the willpower to leave the lake. It's not easy. He feels some strange, twisted connection to Arthur here, and by leaving, he feels like as if he's leaving part of himself behind, too. But maybe this is exactly the case – Arthur really has become part of him after all, just like Merlin himself was part of the King.

He walks to the lake for what is definitely going to be the last time for a long while, crouches down and lowers his right hand into the cool water. He never did this before, for it felt like picking on a fresh, bleeding wound, but he knows he can't leave without doing this. His eyes never leave the silhouette of the Isle of Avalon while his fingers rest on the rough stones beneath the water.

"I…" Merlin halts. He hasn't spoken for almost two weeks now; his voice is raspy from the lack of use. "I'm going to leave now, Arthur. For a long time, I think, but I will come back here someday, I swear. I swear, so… so don't you forget about coming back to this world, all right? Just so we're clear on that, I was promised of your return. Keep that in mind. Prat."

He caresses the smooth surface of the lake gently, and for a second, Merlin thinks he almost hears it whisper something back to him.

"Freya, dear Freya," he says then to the glistening water, "please take good care of him. I know he's unbearable, but please try to tolerate him for me."

He crouches there for some moments before finally pulling his hand out of the water.

"Well then…" He sighs, stands up, and makes a last lingering glance at Avalon. The lake and Isle looks calm and peaceful to him in a way it never had before. "See you later."

* * *

Merlin visits his mother in Ealdor. The idea of going back to Camelot never even occurs in him. It's way too early; it would be much too painful.

When Hunith sees him for the first time, she drops everything she has in her hands. For a frozen moment they just stare at each other in silence, but then Hunith is running towards him, and he is running towards her without realizing it, and they share an embrace so full of love and longing that Merlin cannot remember how to breathe properly. He breaks down right in his mother's arms, and chokes a long couple of throaty sobs.

"My boy, my dear boy," Hunith whispers in a tight voice. She caresses Merlin's head and kisses his forehead. "Hush, love."

Merlin is not even remotely embarrassed by the fact that Hunith still treats him like he was an adolescent. It's been almost a year and a half since he last visited home and Merlin really feels like a weeping boy in this motherly embrace. He missed this house, he missed this safety place. He knows this is just what he needs right now.

They talk all night. Hunith was aware of the war of course (Arthur made sure to send word to every village), but she didn't know a thing about the on-going events. Guilt stirs in his chest while his mother shares all her worries and fears with him, and in return, Merlin too, tells her everything.

Had someone asked him before, he would have been convinced that he was not quite up to talking about the dreadful last days of the war, but once Merlin starts speaking something breaks loose in him. He just talks and talks and doesn't leave out anything, even though the mere mention of Camlann squeezes his heart to sharp aching: he tells Hunith everything about Morgana's final scheme, her robbing of his magic; the unexpected meeting with his late Father's spirit in the Crystal Cave, and how he helped Merlin find himself again (Hunith's eyes tear up upon hearing this, and she clutches her son's hand in her own so strong that her slim fingers almost turn white); he tells her about the war, about Mordred… and about Arthur.

Hunith is silent for most of the time, but when Merlin swallows and speaks about his sobbing, choked-out confess to Arthur, she gasps a little "oh, my boy", and places her right hand on Merlin's cheek. He leans into the warmth of the touch, gaining courage to continue. His words are messy; he stumbles on the syllables while breathing shakily, but never stops for long. It's hard talking about their very last journey, strained and horrible and beautiful as it was. Merlin feels like living it again; even with his eyes open he can see Arthur's face in front of himself clearly. He can see his friend's demonstration of his initial refusal, hurt and disappointment… and then the slightest expressions of dubious curiosity, the honest desire to understand and following that, the ever-waited acceptance.

When Arthur nodded to him as if to say 'go on, light that fire' and Merlin complied, he never felt himself so bare in front of another living soul. Casting this final layer off of himself – doing magic beside Arthur, knowing he was watching – made him so naked that he almost couldn't bear looking up into the King's eyes.

Now he feels bare again, but in front of his mother the feeling is not nearly as chest-tightening. It helps that Hunith doesn't stop stroking Merlin's hand encouragingly for a moment.

By the time he finishes, something dies in him again, leaving his body empty and numb. He just sits there in the ramshackle chair and listens to the sound of his mother wiping her eyes.

"You did everything in your power to save him, Merlin," says Hunith after a while. Her eyes are red, but her voice is strong. "You mustn't blame yourself."

At that moment it dawns on Merlin that he did exactly that without even realizing it; he really did blame himself. He opens his mouth, then nibs at his lower lip, and says nothing to the comment.

"Two sides of the same coin, you said so yourself", he says however in a voice that surprises him, being so raspy and heavy with emotions. "Tell me then… What am I supposed to do without my other half?" Merlin tries and fails to swallow down the hard lump from his throat.

"It is always terribly hard, mourning someone you loved," replies Hunith softly. "But you must always look forward. Arthur would want that too, I'm sure of it."

"Maybe."

They are sitting in silence for a while before Hunith declares that both of them are in need of some food now. They have a very late dinner (or is it a very early breakfast?), talk a bit more, and then Merlin goes straight for his old bedroom. The bed feels big and pleasingly warm after spending nearly two weeks lying under the sky. Hunith puts a blanket over him and kisses his forehead, and in that moment Merlin let's his childish desire out into the air.

"It's crazy, I know," he whispers with closed eyes, "but I almost wish I lost my magic again but have him back alive."

Soft hands caress his cheek again but Merlin does not open his eyes. He doesn't want to see the expression on Hunith's face. She doesn't say anything though; probably because there are no words that would make this whole situation right. She places another kiss on Merlin, and then blows out the candle.

"Sleep, love," Hunith says before leaving the room, and Merlin does just that.

* * *

Merlin spends two months in Ealdor. It feels like a hiding place for him, a sanctuary where he can forget and heal. And he really starts healing – slowly, terribly slowly, but at least he does – though he can never seem to forget. Every night Arthur's face is the last thing he sees before sleep enfolds him in her cool arms and Arthur's face is the first thing he sees when dawn caresses his cheeks with the warm rays of the morning sun.

Nevertheless, he pretends to forget. He doesn't bring up his King in any conversations with his mother, and even if she is aware, she lets it pass.

The villagers are good to him. It's been ten years since he left Ealdor but most of them still remember him kindly. He works hard, and helps Hunith and other villagers wherever and whenever he can. He doesn't use his magic, though, only at home, and only for little things. He hears word that that magic is no longer outlawed in the kingdom, and he's happy for it, he really is. But he doesn't want to bring attention to himself, not when he's not planning on returning to Camelot just yet.

Gaius is the only one he informs of his whereabouts. He doesn't want to at first, but Hunith insists. When a couple of farmers leave for Camelot at the end of the first week Merlin spends here, Hunith sees about that Merlin sends a letter to his old mentor with them.

Merlin knows that it was wrong of him not to let Gaius know he was alive right away, but he was_ scared_ – he still is. Gaius would have wanted to come to him, or worse yet, would have wanted Merlin to go back to Camelot… and he couldn't bear that. Merlin would have to talk about Camlann all over again, and Gaius would be really nice to him. And then there would be Gwen, sweet, dear Gwen whom Merlin had let down. How was he to look into her eyes and tell her that he failed to save her husband?

So no, he most definitely does not want to go back. He lets Gaius know that he is alive (he doesn't use the word 'alright' as it would be a lie), and he stresses that he is not quite ready to face anyone from Camelot. Gaius' reply comes with the returning married couple to Ealdor: he writes that Merlin is a stubborn fool for not writing to him sooner as he was sick from worrying. But he understands, and he will be waiting for him to go back.

Two months passes and then Merlin feels ready to move. Not to Camelot, of course – he's sure he won't be back in the town for a very long time – but to somewhere, where ever his feet take him.

Hunith doesn't seem surprised when one evening Merlin tells her that he's leaving at first light. She only asks him to be careful, to walk with open eyes, and to never forget where he came from. Merlin promises all that sincerely.

The sun breaks and Merlin is ready. He stands in the doorway with a small pack on his back and his mother's arms all around him.

"Be back, my son," Hunith says into his scarf while Merlin hugs her back earnestly. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

With that, Merlin departs for south.

* * *

After four years of wandering around the surrounding kingdoms, one day Merlin feels his magic picking inside his body. It's not a pleasant feeling; the tingling sensation makes him worried and concerned. It whispers to him for two days constantly, and then on the third night, Merlin sees a dream. He is no seer, never was, but when he rouses in the middle of the night; the last fragment of his dream being Gaius' dead still face, he knows the time has come to go back to Camelot. The bond he shares with his old mentor must still be intact for he knows without doubt that this may be the very last chance he gets to visit Gaius.

So he does exactly that.

After he leaves Caerleon, it takes him plenty days of riding to reach the borders of Camelot. While he crosses the familiar forest, the old fear stirs in him again, but Merlin wills it away. He can't postpone this for any longer. Not when his magic tells him that Gaius is gravely ill.

When he enters the lower town, Merlin holds his head high up, his movements are swift and strong. People start noticing him and he can even tell the exact moment some of them recognise him but Merlin pays attention to no one. He heads for the castle and announces himself to the guards.

He leaves his horse to one of the stable-hands and then patiently waits in the courtyard. His heart leaps when he spots Leon and Percival at a corner of the yard. The knights are in some deep discussion when Leon absent-mindedly lifts his eyes and looks around. He gazes past Merlin, but then realization dawns on his face and he quickly looks back at him. His eyes widen as he gasps something. Percival snaps his head up too, and looks at the newcomer as if seeing a ghost.

"Merlin!" shouts Percival, and in an instant both of them are standing right in front of Merlin. He lifts his arms like he is going for a hug, but then stops and settles for a strong handshake. "Merlin, you look…"

"Different?" asks Merlin with a smile. He knows he has changed, he still finds it strange looking at a mirror. It's not his face that changed much (on the contrary: he hardly looks a day older from when he left), but the way he holds himself, the look in eyes, the set of his mouth. He stands tall in his long, sea-blue tunic, and anyone can see from his posture than Merlin is someone who has power and is well aware of it. Gone is the bowing, lowly manservant… his appearance does nothing now to hide the fact that he is a powerful, proud sorcerer. Oddly enough, the knights don't seem a bit surprised or intimidated by this.

"That too," answers Percival grinning. "But great. I wanted to say, you look great."

Leon takes his eyes away from the long, snow-white staff Merlin holds (a gift from a group of druids he spent a year with – it helps him channel his powers) and looks into the warlock's eyes. "I'm glad you are here, old friend. We feared we might never see you again."

"I'm sorry," says Merlin, and even if they know this is not exactly the truth, they let it go. "I came for Gaius."

He watched the smile slowly disappear from their lips. They don't ask how he knows about the physician, and Merlin is grateful for that.

"He's in his chambers. Marco – his apprentice – is taking care of him." Percival makes a gesture towards the gates of the castle. "I don't suppose you need guiding there, but maybe you won't mind if I walk with you? I would like to talk with you for a bit. Haven't seen you for ages after all." The man smiles then and Merlin knows that Percival won't attack him with uncomfortable questions.

"Of course I don't mind it," he says returning the smile. "I have a couple of questions myself."

"I'll go and tell the Queen about your arrival, then," says Leon. He clasps Merlin's shoulder before leaving. "It's great to see you again, Merlin."

Warmth fills the warlock's chest; something he just realizes he had missed.

* * *

Merlin will never forget the look on Gaius' face from the moment he enters the physician's rooms. The old man gasps and actually _moans_, and despite lying motionlessly a moment before, he now struggles weakly out of bed towards Merlin. He lifts his arms up and Merlin finds himself in his hug in a blink of time.

"Merlin!" breathes Gaius, and Merlin winces at the frailness of the old man's broken voice. "Oh, Merlin, my boy, you came back!"

Guilt and shame wash through Merlin at this display of undiminished love. "Gaius," he says softly, hugging the man back. "Yes. Yes, I came back."

"Master Gaius! Master, you must lie back," says an unfamiliar voice then and that's when Merlin realizes that they're not alone in the room. An unruly mop of light brown hair appears in his sight. "I know you are happy for Merlin, but please, don't strain yourself!"

Merlin looks at the speaking man. He's younger than Merlin – twenty-three, maybe a bit more – but a good deal shorter. He has a strong built, oval face, earnest expression and sincerely concerned green eyes. Marco, probably. Merlin only talked with Percival for a few couple of minutes but the knight was clearly fond of the new physician apprentice.

Seeing how he truly worries about Gaius, Merlin himself takes a fast liking to the man… even if there is a short pang of unreasonable jealousy in his chest, which he hastily wills away.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," insists Gaius, but he coughs so hard afterwards that Merlin unconsciously bites on his lip.

"Come on, sit down at least," he suggests softly while directing the old man back to his bed. "We can talk there." He puts his arm around Gaius' shoulders and leaves it there even after settling down.

Marco steps in front of them after that and makes a deep bow to Merlin. The gesture hardly comes as a surprise now (he got used to people bowing to him in these last few years) but Merlin finds it strange to experience this at Camelot. He never was anything but a servant here, and no one can deny now that he is definitely no such thing anymore.

"I'm Marco, sire," says the brunet respectfully, and he lifts his eyes to look at Merlin solemnly. "I've heard much about you from everyone around the castle. I'm honoured to be finally able to meet you."

"Er, thank you. I understand you're Gaius' new right-hand man?" Oh, that didn't come out as neutral as he intended. Merlin quickly cleans his throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Percival was singing praises about you."

Marco flushes, and bows his head again. "I've been learning about herbs and cures for as long as I remember. My own father was a physician-of-sort, you see, and when I arrived at Camelot three years ago, Master Gaius took me under his wing. I'm working very hard to become a reliable physician, and there are no words to describe how grateful and indebted I am to him." The blushes an even deeper red when he realizes how he started rambling. "I'm sorry for boring you, sire! It's just, when I'm nervous…

"No, I'm glad you told me this," Merlin says quickly, and smiles reassuringly at the younger man. "I can see that you are a hardworking lad. I'm pretty sure you are much better suited for being a physician than I ever was." From the corner of his eyes he can see the look Gaius gives him and for some reason it makes something stir uncomfortably in his chest. He kicks himself mentally. He didn't mean to compare himself with Marco, the least from this aspect. "But of course, destiny never meant healing for me, not like this at any rate."

He is relieved to see that Marco's expression softens after that, and he shyly returns Merlin's smile. "Thank you. I-I'll leave you two to yourselves now. I'm sure you have much to catch up on." With a final wave to Gaius and a bow to Merlin's direction, Marco leaves the room.

"He really is a good lad," says Gaius in a soft voice. Merlin looks at his mentor. "But don't think for a second that I brought him here to replace you, because there is not a soul who can do that. He knows this too, that's why he feels insecure in your presence."

"I'm not jealous of him," Merlin replies in a light voice, and he is happy that he can say that now without lying. "I'm glad he is here with you. I'd have hated for you to be all by yourself."

The look Gaius gives him makes him abruptly realize what he's gotten himself into. The smile slowly fades away from his face. "Look, Gaius, I'm sorry I was never here for you in the last four years. I know it was terrible of me to…"

"Stop." Gaius shakes his head, his white-grey hair flutters with the motion. "You don't have to apologize for that; I understand why you have found it hard to come back to Camelot. What I don't understand is why you were so desperate not to keep in touch with either me or you mother. It certainly would not have killed you to let us know once in a while how you were doing."

Shame roses colour on Merlin's cheeks as he lowers his eyes. "I'm sorry, I truly am. I…" He struggles with words for he is well aware that nothing he might say can make what he did right. He finally shakes his head resignedly. "You don't know what it was like for me. I tried to send word to you a couple of times, honestly, but when I got to it I just… had this _awful _feeling in my chest, like something was clenching at me. And dropping only a few words of "hey, I'm still alive, don't worry about me" seemed so inappropriate that I'd forgo sending a letter altogether." Merlin knows it is not enough, it will never be enough, but thankfully Gaius takes pity on him.

"I'm happy you are here now," he says, and Merlin fills with love for the old man. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he says sincerely.

Merlin talks about the experiences he gained during his travels to every corner of the five kingdoms for hours, and in return, Gaius tells him about the more significant happenings of the last four years in and around Camelot. Merlin learns that the Queen allowed magic back to the kingdom right after the war ended, opened a special training course for youngsters with magical abilities so they can practise their art safe in the town and pronounced new laws defining the rights, obligations and restrictions of magic users. Seems like Gwen realized the truth about Merlin on the day of the final battle (Merlin blinks and blinks when Gaius tells him this, and then he breaks into a blinding grin) with a long and earnest speech that made people cry and cheer loudly afterwards. She also revealed the role Merlin played in the life of Camelot, and encouraged people to welcome the newly arrived druids, warlocks, sorcerers and sorceresses to the town with open hearts. Two years ago she appointed the once druid chieftain Iseldir as her Advisor in Magical Affairs, a position Iseldir now holds with respect. Sorcerers are still executed once in a while, Gaius explains, only never for the practise of magic, but for using their power against others with ill intent.

Merlin is shocked and grief-sickened to learn that Gwaine was killed nearly the same time Arthur was – Gwaine, who was his best friend among the knights, whom he has always considered something akin to a brother. Merlin hasn't thought about Morgana for ages but right now he thinks he shouldn't have let her die so easily; he should have made it as slow and painful as it was within his powers. Morgana took his best friend away just like she and Mordred took Arthur away from him.

But there is no place for revenge now. The time for that has been long gone… Merlin closes his eyes, thinks about Gwaine, and mourns in silence for a long minute before asking Gaius new questions.

They talk for hours and hours, and Merlin doesn't even notice the pass of time until Marco comes back with an apologetic expression on his face and a bowl of soup (made from herbs, judging from the scent) for Gaius.

"Sir Leon is waiting for you, sire," he says to Merlin while placing the bowl on the dining table. "He's just outside the door."

"Thank you." Merlin squeezes Gaius' shoulder softly before standing up from the bed.

"I suspect the Queen would like to see you," says Gaius, and looks up to Merlin. "You can come back here for the night when you are finished, if you want to. Your old room is just as you have left it."

Merlin swallows, since the meaning of the last sentence does not escape his notice, but he allows a soft smile onto his face. "Thank you, Gaius, I will. There is no way I'd leave out a chance to be lulled to sleep by your snoring again!

Gaius laughs at that, and Merlin thinks he never saw such a joyful expression on the wrinkled face before. Marco looks like he's a bit bewildered from the intimate air between his master and Merlin, but he only smiles and says nothing, just tends to Gaius as soon as the old man starts having a heavy cough-attack.

Leon turns to Merlin as the warlock closes the door behind himself. "The Queen has been asking about you all day, but she understands that your main concern for the moment is Gaius. Nevertheless, Her Majesty would like to see you before you retire if you are not feeling too exhausted after your journey."

"No, I will meet her," says Merlin firmly. The meeting with Gwen is what he fears the most, for it will definitely involve talking about Arthur, but he doesn't want to postpone it for any longer. He wants to be beside Gaius with his head clear and his heart light, not with constant worries clouding his mind. "Tell her that I will join her shortly."

"She will be pleased." Leon smiles, and Merlin notices the warm spots of shine that always seem appear in the knight's eyes whenever he talks about the Queen. "You can find Her Majesty in the throne room."

"Thank you, Leon."

Leon nods and leaves, but Merlin keeps lingering by the door. Fortunately, he doesn't have to wait for long: roughly five minutes later Marco steps out of the room and lets out a surprised 'eep' when Merlin grabs his arm.

"L-Lord Merlin!" the apprentice stutters caught off-guard. Merlin rolls his eyes at the unwelcomed title, but drops his hand and makes a calming gesture. "What do you… I mean, how can I be at your service?"

"Marco, I need you to tell me about Gaius," the warlock says sternly. "The truth, please. Is he gravely ill?"

Marco worries his lower lip with his teeth but after a moment or so, he nods reluctantly. "I'm afraid he is, sire. There was an epidemic sickness in Camelot last year which Master Gaius, too, has caught. We managed to extinguish the disease, thank the gods, with the help of some local druids but Master has been feeling unwell ever since."

"Is there no cure to help him? Have you tried everything?" Merlin knows he shouldn't ask this, he shouldn't doubt the young man's ability and determination to heal, but it is Gaius they are talking about, and for Gaius Merlin can't hold back the question.

"I tried everything in my power." Marco slowly shakes his head, and when he looks at Merlin again, the green of his eyes are immensely dark and sad. "He is old, my lord; he celebrated his seventieth birthday last summer. He is wasting away, and there is nothing that can cure what comes with old age."

Merlin doesn't trust his voice; he only nods. Marco looks at him sympathetically, then tentatively squeezes his shoulder and leaves quietly.

Merlin closes his eyes, pictures Gaius' old, wrinkled face in front of himself, and for a moment, he feels early grief inside his chest so heavy that he has to brace himself against the doorframe. The wall in cold and brusque-smelling where he presses his forehead against it, the wood of the frame is rough under his fingers. Merlin lets his imagination go wild, he wonders and fantasies about his magic helping…

_There is nothing that can cure what comes with old age._

Merlin opens his eyes and sighs. He pulls himself together, and a minute later he declares himself ready to face the Queen.

* * *

Queen Guinevere Pendragon of Camelot greets Merlin in the throne room but quickly moves them into her private chambers. She smiles brilliantly at Merlin, and drops all formalities once they are alone to themselves.

"Oh, Merlin, you have no idea how happy I am to see you," she says for what must be the fifth time. "And you look absolutely stunning. What would I give to have Uther see you now, for what your worth!"

Merlin thinks about mentioning that the previous King (well, his ghost, to be completely honest) has already seen him for what he is worth and was not the least delighted… but decides to not say anything.

Gwen takes his hand in her owns and looks at him solemnly, with only a slight smile playing on her lips. "First and foremost, I want to say thank you, Merlin. I had long talks with Gaius after the war ended, and now I am well aware of all the things you did for Camelot and its inhabitants throughout the years. I'm only sorry for not getting to hear them from your own mouth, but I understand the reasons you had behind your silence. _Thank you_, Merlin. We are forever indebted to you."

The sudden embarrassment he feels takes Merlin by surprise. "I… You don't have to thank me for that. I only did what I felt was right."

"Yet you never took any credit for your selfless and no doubt heroic actions. No, you deserve the thanks, Merlin, and you deserve even more. But that is all I can give you." The woman holds his hand tight and warm, and the warlock feel his embarrassment fading away.

"You already gave me everything I ever wanted when you let magic be part of the kingdom again," Merlin says. "Your people are happy, and Camelot was never more peaceful. You perfected what has started eight years ago, and it is I who is grateful for that beyond measure."

Gwen just smiles at him, but this smile isn't nearly as bright as it was a moment before. Although Merlin did not say it out loud directly, Arthur's name lingers in the air between them heavy and undeniably. Merlin knows it has to be done, he has to get over it, but this knowledge doesn't make it the least bit easier.

It is the Queen who breaks the ice while releasing Merlin's hand.

"Arthur would be proud of what has become of his kingdom. Every night before I sleep I think through the events of the days, wondering what he would do, what he would say. I think he would be proud of what I have become, and I know for sure that he would be proud of what _you_ have become."

Merlin opens his mouth but the words are stuck in his throat. He closes his eyes for a moment to pull himself together. "Arthur was a wise king and a great man. Had he the time, he would have made this land flourish. Not that you are doing a bad job of it," he adds softly, trying to lighten the conversation.

Gwen naturally takes no offence. "He was thinking about lifting the ban, you know," she says suddenly, to which Merlin snaps his eyes at her. "During the last months, after that peculiar sorceress… _Dolma_, I think her name was," Gwen stops for a moment, lets the name sink in, and she only continues when Merlin's cheeks heat up at the memory, "broke Morgana's enchantment on me. We talked about it for days. I believe that he would have done it soon, had Morgana not declared war on us shortly after."

Merlin is not sure what to say to that, so instead he chooses to remain silent. He is shocked to learn about this; he was sure that there was nothing he didn't know about Arthur (as he once said it to Gaius, he knew the King better than himself), and yet here is he, presented with the fact that his friend never even mentioned this to him. As it turns out, he rather consulted with his wife over the matter, and Merlin feels ashamed because at that, a now long-lost jealousy of Gwen sparks in his chest.

The Queen fortunately doesn't seem to notice his distress. "Have you seen the phoenix emblem yet?"

Merlin blinks. "What?"

"The phoenix emblem. I take it as a no." Gwen smiles, walks to her cupboards and points at the large tapestry on the wall above them, which Merlin only just notices. "The golden dragon of the Pendragons is still the main symbol of Camelot of course, but we invented this one to be used as a secondary emblem across the whole kingdom."

The wide, orange-coloured tapestry portrays a huge, stylised flame, to the side of which a phoenix nestling is leaning into. The design is simple and beautiful, and Merlin can't seem to take his eyes off the image as Gwen resumes talking. "The flame represents magic which can be an instrument for both good and bad. There is a phoenix to which the using of fire is as natural as breathing, but we don't have to fear it just because it is the offspring of flames. If the phoenix doesn't feel threatened, it won't use its fire against us; on the contrary, actually."

Merlin keeps watching the tapestry awed while his magic tingles under his skin with warmth.

"The phoenix also stands for new starts, as it is the symbol of rebirth." Gwen looks back at Merlin and smiles. "A fitting emblem, is it not? It was Arthur's creation." _Now _Merlin snaps his head back to the Queen, whose smile widens at the motion. "Oh yes, it really is his. I have found his scratches in one of the drawers of his desk months after his death. He never showed them to me, I doubt he was ever going to, but that's how I know for sure that he was seriously thinking about the matter of magic."

Merlin looks back at the tapestry completely shocked, and he can't help feeling that the flames are starting to dance gently around the sleeping phoenix baby. He licks his lips and pictures Arthur bending over his desk, making hasty doodles about whatever comes to his mind while thinking of magic… maybe even as Merlin stands only a short few feet away from him. The mental image makes his heart throb and ache with the desire to be by Arthur's side again so much that he has to swallow a couple of times to get rid of the lumpy feeling in his throat.

He doesn't notice Gwen approaching until the woman stands right in front of him and takes his hands one more time.

"Merlin, I know it is terribly hard for you what I am going to ask, but I need to know. Please, would you tell me about how my husband died? I have been living with doubts and what-ifs for as long as I became Queen Regent. I want to learn about his death so I can finally put my grief and regrets behind and look only into the future. He would want that, too."

Merlin lowers his head and does not look at Gwen until he is sure that his pain won't show in his eyes. "Yes," he says then in a soft almost-whisper, "I tell you about his death."

And he does that. They sit down at the table next to each other, and they hold hands for the whole time while Merlin speaks. He feels her fingers trembling in his palm, and he knows that he's not doing much better, either; that he draws just as much courage from Gwen to be able to speak as she does from him to be able to listen. He knows that she's hurting the same way Merlin himself does.

Merlin leaves out nothing, not even those little details which he never bothered sharing with his mother. He talks about how he felt, about how Arthur looked, about how gentle the grass and black the night was – and he can see that Gwen is grateful for the details. She doesn't seem affronted by the fact that Arthur never even mentioned her during his last days; she just drinks in the long wanted words and by the time Merlin finishes, small streaks of newly-shed tears are shining brilliantly on her cheeks.

Merlin blinks, and hastily rubs at his own wet eyelids. He finds himself in Gwen's arms in no time, and he hugs the frail women back earnestly.

"Thank you," says the Queen quietly, and Merlin can do nothing but nod. "Thank you."

Arthur's presence lingers heavily in the air around them, and they share the warm embrace for as long as they both find their much needed solace in each other.

* * *

It is late night by the time Merlin returns to Gaius. The old man is sleeping soundly, so he does his best to approach his old room without raising any noise. He sees Marco sleeping in a bed near Gaius', and Merlin can't help but feel pleased that his mentor's new protégé has probably never stepped into _his _room.

It's sad and joyful and nostalgic all at once to lie down on his old bed again and watch the familiar creaks on the ceiling. For a moment, he lets himself think about what would have happened if he came back here sooner… but after a few minutes of daydreaming he realizes that he wouldn't have been happy here. He still half expects to hear Arthur's irritated 'MERLIN!' shout at any moment, and it's enough to have his chest tighten. He can make it through here for a few weeks, maybe even a bit longer, but he will never be able to live inside the castle once again. Not without Arthur. Never without Arthur.

Merlin sighs as he closes his eyes. The last thing that comes to his mind before dozing off is the sad thought that the next time he leaves this place – this _home_ – it will be because death takes away someone deeply dear to him again.

* * *

It is a long wait and at the same time, a terribly short one. One and a half months after Merlin arrives at Camelot, Gaius silently passes away.

The warlock had been aware of where this was going ever since he first dreamt of Gaius' illness in Caerleon but the actual event still comes to him as a shock. When the sobbing Marco informs him one evening that Gaius will not make it through the night, Merlin turns rigid in his chair and he needs Leon to get him out of the room where they were talking because Merlin wouldn't be able to move on his own. His body refuses to do what he wants, but when he sits down beside his beloved mentor's deathbed, all the shock and terror leave his mind. Merlin is calm and collected during the whole night: he smiles while he pets Gaius' hand, and he even cracks a few terrible jokes which leave the old man laughing and coughing at the same time. When Gaius finally closes his eyes for the last time, there is a smile on his lips and a peaceful expression on his face.

Merlin doesn't move an inch from him for the rest of the night. He watches over the dead man until the sun breaks, and even when the others come to him at the morning, he insists on being present while they prepare Gaius' body for the funeral.

They bury Gaius at the side of the citadel, near to where the marvel memorial of King Arthur towers above the other headstones. Merlin is standing right behind the Queen (a place which is traditionally held by those who were closest to the deceased), a few steps before Marco. The warlock glances at Arthur's monument only for once, and then turns his attention back to Gaius' resting place. Nearly every habitant of Camelot comes to the funeral since they all knew Gaius in one way or another; the physician never denied anything from those who needed his help, a fact which is known to everyone in the town. People keep bringing flowers to the parted as a way of showing their gratitude and respect, and Merlin can smell the sweet scent of spring in the air all through the ceremony.

When Geoffrey of Monmouth closes the huge book he was reading from as a sign of the funeral ending, Merlin breathes a long sigh, and turns his back to the new grave. He hasn't shed any tears today, he just feels extremely worn-out and empty.

The feeling intensifies when he goes back to the chambers he shared with his almost-father for a near decade. Every corner, every phial, every scratch on the dining table bring thousands of memories back forth in him, and Merlin feels suffocated in the rooms which up till that point had been always cosy and familiar to him.

It is the final sign – the final sign that he must leave. Within the castle, this room, he can't even _breathe_.

* * *

He asks for audience in front of the Queen that afternoon, and it doesn't surprise him that from the look of the people around the court, everyone was expecting this. They knew that he came especially for Gaius, and it certainly doesn't take a genius to realize the extent of his stay.

Gwen's eyes are still a bit red, and she examines Merlin with a sad yet calm look on her face. "You aren't going to change your mind and stay no matter what I say, are you?"

Merlin hasn't even said anything, but seems like there is no need to. He shakes his head slowly. "I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be sorry. I understand." Gwen steps in front of the man and gives him a final, tight hug. "But never forget that you will always have a home within these walls, Merlin. You are always welcome."

"I know." Merlin wishes he could say more, wishes he could make her understand just how very grateful he is. But he can't do it, not with him being this empty. "Thank you, my lady."

"Gwen," the Queen corrects him half laughing, half crying.

Merlin shares her trembling laugh. "Gwen."

When the warlock leaves Gwen's chambers, he runs into the Advisor in Magical Affairs in one of the upper corridors. The druid halts when he sees Merlin; he looks at the warlock intensely before bowing his head so deep that his back nearly bends into half. "My lord Emrys."

"Iseldir," Merlin says with a slight bow of his own. He's met with Iseldir a couple of times during his stay at the castle, but they never had anything more than a couple of small talks. Merlin hopes this will be no different, either.

But then for the first time, he notices the phoenix emblem that is embroidered to the druid's chest in brilliant colours, and can't help feeling touched when his mind immediately drifts to Arthur with pride and longing.

"I understand you are departing this afternoon," Iseldir says in a humble voice. "I am sad that we cannot enjoy your presence for any longer."

"I'm leaving in an hour, actually." He tries to make his voice light, but he knows from Iseldir's face that he doesn't succeed. "The Queen doesn't need me here, but I need to go on travelling around the world. I have to broaden my horizon so that I can be of use when the time comes for Arthur to…" Merlin stops himself and bites at his lip, but Iseldir doesn't seem the least bit surprised.

"I know that your role in shaping this land is far from being over. There is more ahead of you, Emrys, a lot more than you could possibly have any way of knowing… But be rest assured that your efforts and sacrifices will all pay off eventually. Just make it sure never to lose yourself along the way."

Merlin frowns and opens his mouth, but the druid advisor holds his hand up.

"It was a privilege to know you, my lord. May the gods grant you the strength to be able to bear what Fate has designed for you, and may you find your way in life wherever she guides you." With a last bow to Merlin's direction, Iseldir hurries away and disappears in one corner of the corridor, leaving a dumbfounded sorcerer in his wake.

Merlin visits his two remaining friends among the knights.

He finds Percival in the gallery, sitting and speaking to the nervously fidgeting Marco. They seem relaxed around each other and neither of them notices the approaching Merlin who slows his steps.

"… doubt yourself. Gaius believed in you, just like everyone else in the castle does," Percival is saying quietly. "You are ready; you have been for a long time."

"I don't feel ready. Master had so much knowledge! There was nothing he didn't know at least a few things about. I on the other hand…" Marco shakes his head and worries his lower lip. "People will come to me for help from now on, and I'm not sure that I won't fail them."

"You won't, Marco," Percival says firmly. "You've met Merlin, right? Seen how great and strong he is, how everyone looks at him and bows instinctively? Well, not so long ago he was a meek young man just like you are – but he learnt that he can't hide his talent and must always do what he does best. Now everyone looks up to him. You, too, should do what you are best at. Heal people, and people will love and respect you in return."

Merlin draws back to the shadows of the archway, and tactically makes the decision to wait a few moments before revealing himself. His face feels warm, and he does everything he can to make it cool down. He hasn't felt this embarrassed in a while. He never even noticed what Percival was saying, that people think of him with such awe. People do that at other kingdoms, true – but this is _Camelot._

When he finally steps out under the archway and heads for the men, Merlin makes it as noisy as he can so Percival and Marco notices him right away. The younger man blushes instantly a deep red shade but Percival doesn't bat an eyelid. "Merlin," he greets him with a smile.

The warlock doesn't beat around the bushes. "I came to say farewell."

The knight's smile fades, but he doesn't seem surprised. "Yes, we all thought that you would leave after…" He breaks off, and Merlin is grateful to him for not saying it out aloud. It's a fresh wound that is still aching. "Where will you go?"

"I'm not sure," he answers honestly. "I've spent the last years wandering around the kingdoms. I've already explored Essetir, Powys and Caerleon… I'm thinking of traveling to Elmet now, maybe Northumbria."

"That's wonderful. You'll know Albion better than your palm. Maybe you can come back later and help the good old Geoffrey make a new map of the land." Percival laughs, but when Merlin's face twitches and his eyes lower, the grin disappears from the knight's face. "Hey…"

"I want to learn," Merlin says quickly, breaking off Percival. "I want to learn about languages, about history, about cultures. I want to develop my skills so that I can be of help to those needing it and I… I also want to cross the ocean. See what the world beyond Albion is like."

The unsaid "_I won't be coming back here, not now, not ever. I'm sorry_" hangs in the air above them maddening and heavy but to Merlin's relief, none of the men address it. It's not that he doesn't like it here but he doesn't _belong_ here anymore. He has always belonged by Arthur's side and now that he is nowhere to be found, Merlin keeps wandering around – like a bird that has lost its home and now cannot settle down anywhere for long.

He may be welcome here, but Camelot will never be his home again. What could he even do? Be a Court Sorcerer and serve the Queen? Merlin loves Gwen, but she will never be his Queen. The only ruler Merlin will ever serve is Arthur and Arthur alone.

Percival only shares one glance with Marco before giving a reassuring smile to Merlin.

"I wish you luck in whatever you do, my friend," he says finally. He clasps the warlock's hand and shakes it tightly.

"And I wish the same for you," Merlin says, and then slowly turns his eyes to Marco, "and for you, too. Gaius was the wisest man I've ever met, so if he chose you, he had a good reason for it. Follow his steps but find you own path, and you will have nothing to worry about."

Marco flushes but smiles back at Merlin, and the two shake hands.

Leon squeezes his shoulder so hard that Merlin thinks he'll have bruises on it for days. Nevertheless, he returns the knight's grin earnestly.

"You are a wonder, Merlin, a right wonder," he says upon finally releasing the sorcerer's abused shoulder. "I remember the lanky boy who threw himself in front of a dagger to protect a prince whom he'd despised back in those days… and now look at that boy! I bet you never thought about where that act will put you nearly fifteen years from then on?"

"You can imagine."

They talk short, and when a servant comes to them and informs Merlin that his horse is ready, Leon grabs Merlin's hand and clutches it hard. "Fare well, old friend."

"You, too." The warlock looks intensely into Leon's eyes and adds, "And take care of her, too. She needs you."

The knight doesn't have to ask who he is talking about. "I always take it to my heart to see to her well-being," he states. "My fellow knights and I are always by her side. She is not alone."

"I know. But she needs more than a loyal subject, more than a fierce protector. You are her friend – and more…"

"I–" Leon looks flustered; an expression Merlin has never before seen on his friend's face. "I don't…"

"I'm not _saying_. Just… take good care of her."

They stare at each other in silence for a long minute before Leon bows his head before stating in a strong voice: "I will."

"Good."

* * *

When Merlin stands on the courtyard of the castle for the last time, he looks up at the enormous building to where the Queen stands on the balcony with her guards, and feels peaceful. It wasn't wrong of him not coming back sooner but he was right to do it now. He could bid farewell to the life he had here with ease in his heart, and for the first time in years, Merlin feels content.

He holds his long staff up and then stabs it to the ground, which starts rumbling in response. Merlin's eyes turn gold as he starts murmuring, to which shining magical circles begins to flash through the earth, the yard, the citadel. For a moment, all what people can see is a blinding flash of brilliant light – and by the time the magic fades away, Merlin is nowhere to be seen.

_Let earth be fertile, let people be strong in soul, let the citadel stand tall for years to come – let this land flourish!_

The warlock rides away from the kingdom of Camelot, and never looks back.

* * *

Iseldir's parting words come back to Merlin for the first time five years later, at a little village bordering the kingdom of Gododdin. Merlin (after demonstrating a little bit of convenient magic) gets to spend some nights at the village leader's home, where a hazel-haired daughter takes a quick shining to him. Merlin coughs and clears his throat, and tries his best to ignore the meaningful glances he receives from the girl across the fire, but he can't refuse talking with her unless he wants to anger the leader. Nevertheless, he focuses his attention on the wonderful smell of meat that comes from the direction of the kitchen, so when the girl gasps loudly, it takes him a couple of minutes to work out that the reason of her shock is something he said.

"I'm… Sorry, what's the matter?"

"Your age," she says with wide eyes. Oh, yes, she was asking about how old Merlin was. "You can't possibly be nearing forty; you hardly look older then my brother, and he's in his late twenties!"

"Er…" Merlin blinks. People often told him he looked younger than what his age suggested, but he has never received such a shocked response before. Well, truth to be told, his age didn't come up often during the last few years. "I guess I'm fortunate?"

The girl shakes her head, beautiful hair flying everywhere. "No, that's not just _fortunate_. You could easily deny ten years and nobody would suspect a thing!" Suddenly, her face lights up and she grins at Merlin knowingly. "Oh, I figured it out. You put a glamour on yourself, right? Or you actually have a spell which stops you from aging? How are you doing it? Can you do it for me, too? I'd…"

"Whoa, hey, stop!" Merlin says quickly. All of a sudden, he feels distressed and puzzled, and he wants nothing more than to get out of here, even if he has to spend the night out in the storm. "I didn't put any spell on myself to change my look. I never do." Except when he turns himself into an old man, but that's just different. And he hasn't even done that since the war.

The girl fortunately leaves it at that, and spends the rest of the evening eyeing Merlin meaningfully.

Merlin however cannot seem to forget her words. Why would she think that he makes himself look younger by magic? Does he really look that young? The following day he searches frantically for a mirror and when he finds one, he stares at it for what feels like hours.

God, he hadn't taken a good look at himself for ages – since he left Camelot for the first time, to be precise. He never really cared. But now he has to admit that he doesn't look a day older from what he remembers.

That's when Iseldir's words are starting to come back to him.

* * *

This little incident starts a whole new series of uncomfortable events for Merlin. Whenever someone comments on his looks, instead of shrugging lightly Merlin stiffens nervously every time. He feels sick around mirrors (and no, he's _not_ afraid of glimpsing his face like the what-was-his-name guy from the market said to him one time; he just doesn't feel comfortable around those items anymore), and he does his best to avoid his age coming up in conversations. He knows that something is wrong, he can _feel_ it, but he's not ready to dig into the matter. Weeks fly by, then months and years, too, and one day Merlin abruptly realizes that he's well past forty-five.

An emotion fills him which he hasn't experienced in years: fear. He's afraid of what this means, about why age seemingly ignores touching him, but he knows that he has to find answers, and he has to find them soon. He thinks of going back to Ealdor, to his mother… he hasn't seen Hunith for six or seven years now, after all. But if he goes back, she will see that Merlin still hasn't aged physically from when he was twenty-eight, and that will scare her just as much as it scares Merlin.

The desire to call for Kilgharrah has never been this strong since that fateful day at the kingdom of Camelot. The dragon would know what is happening to Merlin. Yes, he would speak rubbish in riddles, but _he would know_. But he is gone, and because he is gone, Merlin is left with nobody to turn to.

_Your role in shaping of this land is far from being over_, is what Iseldir said to him. _There is more ahead of you, Emrys, a lot more that you could possibly have a way of knowing._ It's funny – ridiculous, even – that Merlin can quote those words like he's just heard them yesterday, but it's as if they are a spell: he can never forget them.

There are nights when the answer forms in his head on its own and Merlin can almost say it out loud, but he stops himself by biting at his tongue every time. There's no way that the answer is THAT… And even if it is, Merlin definitely does not want to know about it.

When his fiftieth birthday comes and passes, Merlin stops telling people the truth. If someone asks him about his age, he shrugs and tells them that he's thirty.

As the time goes by, he starts to feel tired in this young body. He does something then which he never did since the time of Camelot: he transforms himself into his old form. He realizes that it is much easier to be an old man. Everyone looks at him kinder, no one pays that much attention to him. He feels the troubles of his age like this, and for once, he's grateful for that.

Merlin has been staying in a small town of Rheged for nearly ten years now. He's fluent in the Cumbric language, and spends his days telling tales and stories to the children at the marketplace. Children love him, just like the grown-ups do. He cracks jokes and does small charms like summoning butterflies and making tiny rainbows to keep the children laughing.

One day a girl named Taira steps in front of him. "My grandmother died," she says nonchalantly.

Merlin is surprised at the little girl's indifferent tone. He knits his brows and says, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Taira answers slowly. "I didn't like her. She slapped me often." Merlin is not sure what should he say to this, but he doesn't have to open his mouth after all because the child keeps on talking. "But I like you, master Merlin. You're nice and funny."

"That's… Well, thank you," Merlin says, perplexed. "You're a very nice girl too, Taira."

"But you must be around the age of my grandmother," the girl continues without batting an eyelid. "You look very old. Will you die, too?"

Merlin feels like as if he was slapped. He struggles with keeping his face straight, his voice light. "Everyone dies someday, Taira. You have to accept that."

"I don't want you to die." Her lower lip trembles, and she looks terribly sad. Merlin doesn't have the heart to tell her that he's almost at the point where he wishes he'd die. Instead, he strokes the lovely brown curls and flashes a reassuring smile at the girl.

"Don't be afraid, little one. I think I'll still be around for a while."

Oh, how he wishes that it would be a lie.

* * *

When he declares himself too old to be alive without raising suspicion, Merlin reverts back to his young form and leaves Rheged under the favour of the night. He rides and rides for days without even thinking about where he is going, and when he opens his eyes one day, he's right at the border of Ealdor.

The village is much smaller now, with hardly any people left living there – and none of those that are still around know him. Merlin poses as his own son and tells the leader that he wishes to visit the old house where a woman named Hunith once lived.

He does not expect the man to correct him saying 'why, Hunith still lives there' – he really doesn't, so Merlin is at loss to understand why the man saying nothing like that cuts into him like a knife.

The house is all ruined and dusty; Merlin can't even step inside without the need to cough. The leader tells him that they're tearing it down in a month. Since fewer and fewer families live in the village, they haven't needed the ground of the house up till now, but they're going over it now. Merlin says he doesn't mind. It's not like he could say anything else.

The man points him to where Hunith was buried, and so Merlin spends the rest of the afternoon sitting in front of her cold grave. He feels terrible for not being here for her – hell, he was there for Gaius! He takes comfort only in the thought that his mother would've not minded it. Passing away would have been even more painful for her had she known that Merlin is doomed to stay in this world for… well, he still doesn't know for exactly how long. Some days he thinks he's better off not knowing.

He leaves Ealdor at dawn next morning and rides into the heart of Essetir. He spends a few years there as a common farmer, managing a quiet life and building up the courage to visit the place that enters his dreams all the more often as time wears on – Avalon.

* * *

The return to the Lake of Avalon is anything but easy. He almost turns back at some points, but the closer he gets to there, the harder it pulls at his heart. He almost feels like as if he's heading to a meeting with an old friend, and knowing what lies there behind the ever-blue of the lake, Merlin thinks he might just be doing right that.

When he gets there, even the air smells different. He takes a deep breath and takes in the sight of the faraway island.

Merlin can't move his legs for his life. He stands there, rigid, with his heart beating like crazy and his blood drumming loudly in his ears. After what feels like hours, he finally walks to the shore, sits down and relaxes.

"Well, Arthur… here I am." The breathy whisper of his voice surprises even Merlin. He clears his throat. "But for why, I don't know. It's not as if you're coming back before long, from the look of it. Sometimes, I think I was just part of a joke which I took far too seriously."

The mirror-like surface of the water is smooth and calm, the heavy mist surrounds the Isle like a protecting blanket. Merlin tries to see past it, maybe getting a glimpse of a blond man standing on the opposite shore… but who is he kidding, there's nothing there, nothing at all.

Merlin swallows hard, and shifts to sit cross-legged on the cool grass.

"You have been gone so long," he continues quietly. Some parts of him feel silly for talking to a lake which is obviously not responding to him, but it makes Merlin feel better, and he takes comfort in believing that Arthur maybe really can hear him somewhere. "It feels like it all happened a lifetime ago. Gods, it _did _happen a lifetime ago."

"I'm old, and I think every one of our friends have passed away by now. The last time I heard about Camelot, it was dying. I'm not sure how many more years the kingdom will stand, but I know that I cannot protect it; I cannot will it to keep on standing. One of these days, Camelot will fall for good, and then your land will be gone. And with it, I'll be gone too."

Merlin breathes a long sigh, and glazes at the gleaming lake absently. There is a light breeze in the air which caresses his face as though it was a soft hand, and Merlin leans into it with his eyes closed.

"I'm staying around for some time, but soon I will leave. It doesn't look like I'm dying any time soon, so I guess I have to find something to do with myself. But don't worry about me, I'll manage. Just keep on sitting there, my lord, and be busy resting your royal arse." Merlin almost laughs out at that, but reverting back to their old bantering is not nearly as much fun as it was when Merlin was still getting some kind of response.

He builds a big fire, makes a simple doss for himself with magic, and spends the night by the lake. Next morning, he turns back to the Isle and whispers a few parting words before leaving.

* * *

When Camelot falls, Merlin feels it. He's far, far away from the once glorious kingdom, but he has no doubts as to where the heart-wrenching feeling in his chest comes from. It only lasts for a second, but the realization of what that means takes a few minutes to sink in.

Once it does, Merlin's face turns sorrowful. He grieves the place which he used to call his home, and he grieves all what went away arm-in-arm with it.

Doubt and fear take root in his mind after that, feelings which he finds endlessly terrifying. After all, if Arthur did not rise again when his kingdom needed him the most, just when will he do?

And what if he won't rise at all…?

Merlin pushes the thoughts away. There's no use of thinking like this. Kilgharrah had never lied to him – so if he said that Arthur will come back at some time, Merlin has to keep on believing.

If not for anything else, simply because there is nothing else he can do.


	2. That ravelled thread, he disentangles

2.

That ravelled thread, he disentangles

.

The first time Merlin sees her again, he stops dead in his tracks and can do nothing but stare and stare.

He is at the Northern tip of Albion, in a quiet, highland town. Merlin hasn't been staying here for long – ten, maybe fifteen years – but he believes that he has already explored everything that could be discovered within these mountains. Today however proves him to be wrong.

He came up to the hill to collect some herbs for the elderly woman who lives next to him in a small cottage. She is suffering from severe headaches and nasty pimples that appeared on her arms completely out of the blue, so Merlin offered up his help. He never thought of himself as a physician (not now, not ever), but recently he's started taking on patients with various troubles and diseases. Gaius would be proud of him, Merlin thinks. Apparently not all of his teachings went wasted after all.

Merlin's got an armful of plants and flowers by now which he puts carefully into his basket, but when he's about to leave, he thinks he hears something – a quite puff of breath that sounds impossibly loud in his ears, followed by an unnervingly sharp pull at his chest. Merlin puts the basket down and straightens, looking around with narrowing eyes.

He feels it again, then: a strange curling in his gut and his magic prickling under his skin. But he doesn't feel threatened, so after a moment of hesitation he starts walking to where his instincts lead him. When the mouth of an enormous cave appears in his sight, he stops.

Merlin thinks he knows this feeling. It's familiar – intimate, even –, something which he hadn't experienced in a long, long time, aside from when he was visiting Avalon. He probably shouldn't be this careless, but curiosity makes him reckless.

He starts walking closer to the cave with slow steps and says in a loud voice: "Show yourself."

For a moment, nothing happens. Then a long, miserable yowl cuts into the air and a sad pair of sky-blue eyes emerge from the darkness of the cave.

Merlin freezes. Gasps. _Stares_.

"Aithusa," he breathes out finally.

The creature lowers her head, quailing, and glances up at the warlock guardedly. She lets out another whimper, and tries to make herself scarce under Merlin's quickly darkening eyes.

"_Aithusa!"_ Merlin's angry shout echoes long in the mountains, and the dragon shivers visibly at the strength of his voice. Merlin is shivering, too, but he does that from wrath. "How _dare_ you… I thought I told you I never want to see you again! I told you to leave!"

Aithusa whines and shakes her head, and tries to make herself even smaller. Merlin knows he was the one who told the dragon to show herself, but he doesn't care – she should've known he doesn't want to see her, she should've stayed there and never come out… because she brought so many almost-forgotten memories and grudges along with herself that Merlin is almost drowning in the sudden wave of emotions.

The stupor leaves him. He runs to the creature who lets out a scared yelp, and he shoves his fist into her side so hard that Aithusa cries and tips. Merlin is panting hard while he steps back and pulls out the small stick that rests on his belt, and he's glaring deadly while he restores it back to its original form. The white druid staff shines under the sun as Merlin lifts and points it right at the young dragon.

"_Why did you help Morgana?_" he roars, sixty-or-so years of pent-up frustration and agony finally bursting out of him. "_Why did you have to make that sword for her?!_ If it wasn't for you, I could've healed Arthur's wound! If it wasn't for you, Morgana would've never made it that far! You… YOU!" His eyes turn angry gold, the staff flashes magic, and Aithusa lets out a painful howl. "I wish I had never hatched you!"

Merlin's chest feels tight. He was so happy when he didn't fail saving the egg from Borden… He was so happy when he brought the little dragon to life – he cried and laughed, and he could have sworn Kilgharrah did the same. The Great Dragon said that she boded well for Albion…

"You weren't supposed to _betray _us!" Merlin chokes out.

He lifts his arms again to end this, to end all of this… but when he points the staff at the whimpering dragon, he makes a fatal mistake: he looks into her eyes.

Aithusa's huge blue eyes are wide with genuine fear, and she's trembling and shivering so hard that her deformed self looks even more miserable. And when she stares at Merlin desperately, he can feel her fear in his own body while her thoughts are trying to reach his mind frantically. Merlin bites on his lip and clenches his hands, but allows a tiny opening to his mind which is entered immediately by the dragon's consciousness.

_:: Merlin! ::_

Her voice is high-pitched, desperate and fearful, and it's resonating long inside Merlin's head. He swallows, but keeps his guard and does not lower his staff.

_:: Merlin, I am sorry! I did not want Arthur to die! ::_

The warlock almost laughs at that. "Just what did you think she was going to do with the sword? Tell Mordred to slice apples with it?"

Aithusa trembles at the bitterness in his voice, but doesn't break eye-contact. _:: I only wanted to make her happy. ::_

"Happy! Why would you've wanted Morgana happy? She was–"

_:: My friend, ::_ Aithusa interrupts him quietly. _:: She was my friend. She was never anything but kind and caring to me. ::_

"Well, you're alone with that," Merlin spats.

He knows it's not exactly true – the old Morgana, the good Morgana was a really kind person. If she held onto that side of her personality only just a little bit, if she showed_ that_ to Aithusa, maybe Merlin could understand why she sided with the witch.

But that does not justify her actions. She was just as responsible for Arthur's death as Morgana and Mordred was.

_:: Let me show you. ::_

Merlin blinks at the request, but doesn't have the time to oppose because fragments of mental images start flashing in front of his eyes – memories which are not his own.

_He sees it from Aithusa's point of view as Morgana opens her eyes after he_ (no, not he; _Aithusa_, Merlin corrects himself)_ has healed her wound. There is awe and wonder in her eyes, and she looks after the dragon as he-she flies away._

_Morgana strokes the dragon's head gently. She's whispering sweet words to the air around them, and the look she gives him-her is absolutely beautiful._

_Morgana screams and tries to protect Aithusa when they're attacked. He-She wants to help, too, but he-she is too young – cannot use fire yet. One man takes him-her down brutally and forces him-her to the ground. Morgana screams Aithusa's name. Suddenly there is a dagger at his-her throat and the dragon hears one man saying that if the witch doesn't give herself up, he will cut Aithusa's neck. Morgana cries and complies._

_Morgana hugs him-her close as they bind them, and she won't release him-her until they chain her hands up to the side of the well so they can't touch._

_It is terribly dark and cold inside the well. The only warmth Aithusa feels is coming from Morgana's eyes whenever she looks at him-her. She says that everything will be alright, that she will make them pay. Aithusa whimpers, and moves closer to the woman._

_The dragon whines in agony. His-Her body is growing rapidly but there's not nearly enough place, and it hurts, it hurts blindingly. Strong, fierce Morgana is pleading to their captors, but they only laugh. Aithusa nuzzles close to the cool body of the witch, and tries to suppress the pained tremors rushing through his-her body._

_They make Aithusa drink liquid fire. His-Her throat burns like hell, like his-her chords are melting and he-she shrieks and whimpers and squeaks from pain. Morgana tries to ease the dragon's suffering with her magic, but she is too weak for it to really work. She curses and swears at their captors while crying. _

_Morgana strikes like a beautiful, deadly viper. They're escaping. Aithusa has to rely on the witch; he-she is crippled for good. The dragon wants to will Morgana away and not be the reason of their re-capturing, but she says that she would never leave him-her behind._

_Aithusa knows that he-she is deformed and ugly and disgusting – nothing a dragon should look like. But Morgana still says he-she is the most beautiful thing she's ever seen in her life._

"Enough…"

_Morgana wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming. Aithusa hurries to her side, like he-she does every time she has a nightmare, and puts his-her head into the woman's lap for comfort. Morgana is trembling wild as she hugs Aithusa to her chest…_

"I said, ENOUGH!"

Maybe their mental connection makes Aithusa feel Merlin's emotions, too, because the memory fragments are abruptly coming to a halt. The warlock falls to his knees next to the staff he hasn't realized he'd dropped, and grips his tunic above his desperately thumping heart.

He closes his eyes and tries to get rid of the images he'd seen a moment before as if he was Aithusa herself, but he discovers that it is impossible. He'd seen those memories from first hand and what's more – he'd lived the dragon's _feelings_. He knows that Aithusa genuinely loved Morgana, and he knows… he knows that the feeling was reciprocated.

Maybe Morgana was not so burnt out as they all thought she was. Apparently, she still had the capacity to love (buried deep, deep inside), and she aimed all that remaining affection to Aithusa.

Merlin doesn't know what to think, what to _feel_ anymore. He wants to detest Morgana, he really wants to, but he finds it impossible after experiencing Aithusa's memories; after he was reminded of why was he so fond of the gentle lady from the castle during those first years at Camelot.

He doesn't notice Aithusa approaching until she is right in front of him. She has grown a lot, Merlin discovers now that he lets himself observe. She's bigger than any horse now (Merlin would reach up only to the heel of her wings standing) and she is a bit stronger, she could probably carry someone on her back with ease. Her unfortunate form has improved a bit in the years she's spent in the wild, but it is clear that she will always bear the deformations the cruel captivity had caused in her body.

_:: I know she did many wrong. I did not agree with many of her decisions. She was not perfect. ::_ The azure eyes are sad, deeply sad. _:: But I loved her all the same. ::_

Merlin keeps his eyes strictly on the ground as he speaks. "Leave."

She's so close now that he can feel her warm breath against his skin. She touches her nose to Merlin's arm for a blink of a moment before breaking their connection. The constant, gentle buzz fades away in Merlin's mind as Aithusa opens her wings and flies away lubberly.

Merlin thinks he probably should have said that one word in the dragon tongue. He should have ordered Aithusa to never come back, to never appear before his sight again. But he didn't, so there is a fat chance that someday their path will cross again.

Merlin thinks he probably shouldn't feel relief over that thought.

* * *

He spends his one hundredth birthday alone in his hut. It is surreal and ridiculous and painful. Merlin feels terrible. He sips from the cheap spirit he got from a neighbour, and loses himself in the hot feeling of alcohol running along his throat.

He is in his old form. It's easier like this, in this body, to bear thinking about his age. About how many more years are still waiting for him. About why does he have to do this at all.

"May the gods grant you strength", Iseldir said once. Merlin laughs a bitter laugh, and downs his drink in one swallow. He supposes he could do with a bit more strength right now.

It's a quiet evening and later, a quiet night. Sleeps avoids him, and by the time the sun rises, Merlin decides that he won't be celebrating his birthday anymore. Perhaps he won't be keeping track of his age, either.

It's easier.

* * *

Aithusa hasn't left the mountains, and Merlin doesn't feel it in himself to be upset about it. When he sees the dragon from afar flying awkwardly one day, he feels some strange gratitude, which he puts down to Aithusa being the only presence from his previous life, his reminder, his memento… his kin.

Later, when he is yet again up in the hills musing in silence about everything and nothing all at once, he startles to feel a familiar tingling inside his body. Merlin looks around once, twice, and sees nothing, but then a light buzz starts poking gently at his mind. The warlock closes his eyes for a moment to debate on whether to let the invader in or not… but before long, he finds himself opening the mind-channel without hesitation.

Aithusa's consciousness fills his head and it's as if she was right there beside Merlin.

_:: You didn't leave, ::_ he says in his head before Aithusa has a chance to speak.

The dragon is quiet for a moment, as if to consider her words. _:: No, I did not, ::_ she replies finally. _:: I felt as though you needed me here. ::_

Merlin chooses not to comment on the answer. _:: Will you come out? ::_

_:: Only if you allow me to. ::_

Silence. _:: Come. ::_

Aithusa stumbles out of her cave, and five minutes later she's lying beside Merlin on the fragrant grass. They do not look at each other, and neither of them speaks. When it's time for Merlin to leave, they change a quick, tense nod before parting.

Merlin figures it's a start.

* * *

He's not sure when the meet-ups with Aithusa became a weekly occurrence. Merlin acknowledges the pattern only when a blind man could not deny it for any longer.

The routine feels safe and comforting in a rather odd way. Once a week, Merlin visits her in the mountains where they stay together until Merlin has to go back to the town or Aithusa decides it's time for hunting. Some days they talk for hours, other days they just circle around in the woods without saying anything. Plenty of months pass, and Aithusa is not so guarded around Merlin by now: she's calm and relaxed for most of the time, and the warlock in return loses the bitterness he'd always carried with himself during their meetings.

Aithusa is nothing like Kilgharrah (and she doesn't speaks in riddles; a fact for which Merlin is eternally grateful), yet she has a certain air around her that often reminds Merlin of the Great Dragon. Maybe it's a characteristic of their species?

_:: I looked up to Kilgharrah, ::_ says Aithusa, reading Merlin's thoughts. _:: Even before you called for me, I felt his presence in my egg. He was strong and wise, and the short time I have spent with him has forever marked me for life. If you find me resembling him in any way, I am glad and honoured. ::_

Merlin's happy with the turn of the conversation because it provides an opening for him to ask one of the questions that has been bugging him for a long time. "Why did you two part ways?" He looks at the dragon trailing beside her, and decides on confessing: "I was really angry when I found out he was not with you. I thought he abandoned you, and that's why you stayed with Morgana instead. I wanted to confront him about this, but…"

He doesn't need to finish. Merlin feels the gentle push in his mind, and he recalls Kilgharrah's shattered look from their last encounters, the way he bid farewell to Merlin – and Aithusa watches those memories along with him.

The dragon looks sorrowful. _:: He would have never abandoned me. We got on well; he fed, taught and protected me. When my wings got strong enough, I started taking lessons in flying. After the first week, I always flew alone until one day I found a wounded woman. She was magic, I felt it, and thus decided to heal her. When I went home to Kilgharrah, I told him about it. ::_ Aithusa closes her eyes and through their mental connection, Merlin can feel her shame, her guilt, her pain. _:: I have never seen him like that before. He was_ furious. _He told me that she was evil and I was not to cross path with her ever again. He shouted about destiny, _your _destiny, and that I have endangered everything you and he have worked on… ::_

It is strange hearing this about Kilgharrah. The only time Merlin saw him truly angered was when he told the dragon after the incident with Nimueh that he will never set him free. He had always known Kilgharrah to be as calm as the druids, and Merlin could imagine how frightened the young Aithusa must have felt when hell broke out. From Aithusa's point of view, he had to admit, saving a wounded woman who was more or less kin to him through magic was a caring and merciful act. She couldn't possibly understand the consequences…

_:: I was terribly confused and angry with him, :: _Aithusa continues. _:: We fought and I fled. I flew around the forest for days, and hid my presence from him. Then I found the woman again. She had seen how small I was, how I couldn't hunt yet, and she captured a young stag for me with her power. I often met up with Morgana after that. ::_ Aithusa's look softens at the memory, and Merlin feels the warmth that fills her heart. The emotion however changes to pain soon enough. _:: And then we were captured. Years passed, and I knew that Kilgharrah must have believed me dead. I am sure that he thought I was killed by a bigger animal in the forest, that he felt guilt upon failing to protect and guide me. After we escaped… to be honest, I never wanted to see him again. ::_

Aithusa stops walking and downs her head. Her whole fragile form screams of shame, and Merlin instinctively reaches out and touches her head in a calming gesture. Aithusa leans into his touch with her eyes closed.

_:: Not because of him but because of _myself._ I respected him, I looked up to him. I did not want him to see me being this pathetic, disabled and ugly. I did not want him to see me and feel disgusted for sharing kinship with me. And I also did not want him to think that my condition was in any way Morgana's fault… It was enough that she herself thought that. ::_ She opens her eyes, and Merlin can see the raw feelings shining behind the azure orbs. _:: It was better that he thought I had died. I hope he never found out about me; I could not bear the shame. ::_ She shakes her head slightly. _:: Has he ever spoken to you about me after my hatch-day? ::_

"No."

_:: Good. ::_

They arrive at a sunlit meadow. Merlin sits onto a cliff and Aithusa lies down beside him. When her head comes to rest on his lap, Merlin tenses, but he relaxes after a moment and puts his hand over her forehead. She must be used to doing this (from what he'd gathered about her life with Morgana, Aithusa probably misses the physical contact), but it's all new to Merlin, especially with a dragon. Kilgharrah was, well, never one for touching. Hell, he'd always fussed the few times when Merlin asked him to carry him on his back, growling that he's a dragon and not a common horse.

Merlin smiles at the memory which is then followed by hundreds of others. He misses his old friend, he realizes. He briefly wonders if Aithusa does, too.

_:: I do. ::_ Merlin nearly jumps. Aithusa was clearly picking on his thoughts again. _:: He was the last of his kind, great, wise, impressive and mighty. I am glad that I was granted the chance to know him and I will be forever shamed that I was not able to live up to the expectations he had placed on me. ::_

"What do you mean, the last of his kind?" Merlin teases lightly. "What are you then, a lizard?"

Aithusa shakes her head in a slow motion. _:: I have no right to call myself a dragon for it would degrade all my ancestors. Let them and _onlythem_ be those powerful magic creatures that mankind will remember forever, and me the minor side note that everyone will forget within a blink of a time. ::_

Merlin is shaken by the bitterness present in her voice. He strokes his hand across the top of her head and says: "Don't talk about yourself this way, Aithusa. Everyone is important, you included. You have made some bad decisions… but I, too, did." He thinks about Morgana, the old, caring Morgana who was frightened and in need of a helping hand which Merlin denied of her. "Kilgharrah was always been going on about destiny and laid-out paths. Maybe this is what was planned for you."

_:: This? To disappoint my last kinsman, fail to save my only friend and cause pain to the Dragonlord who brought me to life? ::_ Her voice is bitter and self-disgusted. _:: And now you are stuck with me as the only person who you can share your immortal life with. For the rough ten hundreds of years I have, that is. ::_

Merlin's breath hitches and his body jerks tense. He has suspected, of course, maybe he was even aware, but to have it spelled out to him in such an abrupt way is… overwhelming. He has to swallow a couple of times to calm himself down after the initial shock.

So…_ immortal_, is he. He's not dying. He's not dying for… how long, exactly? Eternity sounds far too long.

He notices Aithusa watching him, and so Merlin does his best to appear nonchalant.

"Hey," he says, and he's relieved to hear that his voice is not quite as shaken as he feels, "you're not half bad for a long-time companion." He smiles at the dragon and to his relief, the tension and heavy sadness leave Aithusa's body.

_:: We could cross the sea, ::_ she says suddenly a few minutes later. Her blue eyes are full of intent. _:: I am not as weak as I may appear. I could bring us both across to the mainland and then you could explore new countries, new cultures. I know you have been thinking about it. ::_

"Well, yes, I was, but…" Merlin stutters, taken yet again by surprise. "Are you really strong enough for it? I could take a ship or something, and you wouldn't have to strain yourself."

_:: I will be fine, ::_ Aithusa states firmly. _:: I, too, feel trapped in this land. Everything is changing here, but we are not tied down anymore. We can leave, learn… and one day, return. ::_

Merlin considers the dragon's words for long minutes, but deep in his heart he knows that he has already decided.

"All right. Let's leave." he agrees, and his heart feels lighter immediately. He adds, "A month from now on. I have to shut down the life I lead here before we go."

Aithusa nods. _:: A month from now on. ::_

* * *

That month flies away with surprising quickness. Merlin is nervous and excited, and for most of the time, he can't believe he really is leaving Albion. No matter which country he travelled to, he was always home in some ways but now – now it will all change. He'll step his feet on a land completely different from this. But that's good. Change is good. He needs it.

He tells the townspeople that he is returning to his hometown in Elmet. He bids farewell to those who were closer to him and sells his house. He doesn't have many belongings, but he gets rid most of them anyway so that he won't burden Aithusa more than necessary.

On the day of their departure, the sun shines brilliantly over the fields as if to wish them luck for their new journey. Merlin puts his hand over Aithusa's nose as a way of greeting and she closes her eyes and pushes against the warlock's palm. They've became quite comfortable around each other. Merlin doesn't forget about the events of the past but he has come to realize that holding grudges is not something they can afford when living an immortal (or just a veeery long, in Aithusa's case) life. They make mistakes, they get angry, and they get over it. There's no other way to bear being alive.

He fits onto the dragon's back easily even though she is still much smaller than what Kilgharrah was. She says she will reach her final size during the next thirty years, with the rate of her growing gradually slowing down. Merlin wonders if she will ever reach the grace the Great Dragon has always had, or if the woeful abuse which she had to suffer during her first years had really changed her for good. She looks better, fuller, but she's still quite fragile, and Merlin cannot help worrying about her. He's sick to the stomach whenever his thoughts wander to how Morgana must have felt when she had to watch Aithusa's torturing from the first row.

Merlin shakes his head and pushes the depressing thoughts away. Maybe the dragon can see something on his face however, because in the next second, ahe reaches for Merlin's mind.

The warlock quickly clears his head before allowing Aithusa to connect to him, but apparently he couldn't push all the thoughts away.

_:: Are you still musing about Morgana? ::_ she asks, and Merlin is relieved at the light tone she speaks with.

"Yes," he confesses. "Well, I don't really know what to think anymore. Sometimes I get the feeling that if we had just sat down once without trying to kill each other and talked for a while, things perhaps wouldn't have turned out to be this messy." The dragon does not comment on this, and Merlin supposes he has to establish his opinion on the matter by himself. He can't help asking, though: "Do you think about her often?"

_:: Every day. ::_

Merlin only nods to that.

Taking off is messy and awkward, Aithusa not being used to Merlin's weight and Merlin to the dragon's size. He worries for her, but she gets the hang of it after a few uneasy strokes. Aithusa flies up high so they cannot be seen from the ground, and after circling a bit above the well-known mountains, she heads to the German Sea.

Merlin gets glimpses of her emotional state through their connection. He feels her joy, her worries, her happiness. He also feels the melancholy thoughts that still linger in her mind about Morgana.

"She would not be happy to see you being like this with me, "Merlin says without thinking.

He wants to kick himself for being this stupid, but Aithusa just huffs lightly. _:: No, she would not. ::_ She blinks up at Merlin teasingly. _:: She would push you down so that she could take your place on my back. ::_

"Oh! She wanted to fly with you?"

_:: She dreamed about it. Sometimes. ::_

He can feel her pang of grief just as clear as she can feel his awakening curiosity. He doesn't dare to ask, but Aithusa saves him the trouble.

_:: No, I never could talk to her. Our captors damaged my throat beyond healing, so I was already mute by the time I could have started speaking. My mind on the other hand was not yet strong enough for making a full mental connection. We can do that only after twenty years or so into our growth. ::_ She stops for a moment and Merlin listens to the even sound her wings make with every stroke. _:: But sometimes I could reach out to her. Sense her emotions, the focus of her thoughts, her dreams… And I suppose she felt mine in return. ::_

Merlin remains silent for some couple of minutes. "Well, you're a lot better than Kilgharrah was. He never even asked for permission, he just entered my mind whenever he felt like it. "

Aithusa lets out a soft laugh, and Merlin can tell that she's grateful for the change of topic. _:: Well, he certainly had some strange manners. ::_

Merlin laughs, and the smile is still there on his face when they reach the sea. It's huge and deep blue and brilliant, and he cannot take his eyes away from it. He'd seen it plenty of times, but never from this high – never like this.

_:: Beautiful, is it not? ::_

_:: Yes! ::_ Merlin shouts with all his soul, overjoyed.

He swears he feels Aithusa smiling, but before he could gather his thoughts, the dragon motions backwards with her head. _:: Take a good look at the island, Merlin. We will not be seeing it any time soon. ::_

Merlin does as he is told and turns back. The land of Albion is already decreasing in its size rapidly, getting smaller minute by minute in the warlock's sight. The image of green fields and grey mountains burns into his retina, and Merlin doesn't doubt that he will be feeding on this mental image until he lets out the last of his breaths. In front of Merlin's eyes, his beloved homeland melts together with the thousands of memories it carries and he thinks of his life, his friends, his mother, his mentor, his King…

And he cries out into the wind.

He can feel Aithusa's presence caressing his mind and his soul, and he's grateful beyond words for the silent comfort she gives him. He forces his eyes away from Albion and looks forward, at the endless blue of the sea.

_Goodbye. I will return._

* * *

Leaving Albion is not an easy decision, but one Merlin is glad he had made. He feels light and content in a way he hadn't felt in a long time, and even when Aithusa parts with him, saying that she has her own journeys to make for now, Merlin stays optimistic.

During his long stay on the mainland of Europe, he spends one and a half hundred years exploring the grand Frankish Kingdom. He's been refining the art of changing his body to appear as though he was aging since his time in Deira, and by now he can say that he's doing it brilliantly. The empire is astonishingly huge and exciting, and Merlin travels from one province to another, absorbing knowledge about culture, language and arts. He is saddened to note that magic is slowly fading away from the lands as time wears on, but he knows that he cannot change the course of the world. He no longer displays his magic in front of the public; he keeps it to himself because this way it is much easier to pass as an insignificant traveller whom no one pays attention to.

Later, he moves on and spends one lifetime travelling around the Middle East. The climate and the land are rather different from what he's used to but he enjoys the journeys immensely. He can't really blend in with his natural appearance so he uses the slightest of charms and glamours to make himself resemble the wandering clans he encounters. Their languages are difficult, but since he already knows quite a few others, he gets the trick of them after some years. (It also doesn't hurt to have his magic subtly interpret for him and for the locals.) While travelling even further to east, he learns about Islam and Hinduism just as he learnt about Christianity back in Francia; he finds them interesting, even if he keeps his old religion fiercely in his heart.

* * *

Merlin meets with Aithusa again in Bengal, while he's staying at the Pala Empire. He is guarding live stocks when he feels the familiar tingling on his skin and the gentle pushes against the barriers of his mind. For a second he freezes, but then he recognises the warm feeling that always dances under his skin whenever he's around his spiritual sister.

He opens his mind eagerly and almost deafens immediately from the happy shout that echoes loud in his head. _:: Merlin! ::_

The warlock laughs and looks around, irrationally hoping to catch a glimpse of the white dragon somewhere in the air. _:: Aithusa, you're back! Where are you? ::_

_:: Close. ::_ He can hear the smile in her voice. _:: Come out to the barren at night? ::_

_:: Is that a question? ::_

He hears her laugh clearly this time. _:: No. I will be waiting for you. ::_

She cuts their connection and her voice disappears. Merlin's heart is beating excitedly and he can hardly wait for night to fall.

When they finally meet at midnight, Merlin rushes to her side and hugs her head which she lowers for his sake. Aithusa has reached her final size at last: she has grown up to be nearly as huge as Kilgharrah was. Her look is still a bit battered and she still holds herself awkwardly, but gone is the bony thinness of her form – she's filled out, all long limbs and fine curves. Her wings are much larger than Merlin remembers (well, _the whole dragon_ is much larger than Merlin remembers), and her head has lengthened, too. Her large blue eyes however are just as brilliant and clear as they were in the past, and right now they're shining warmly at Merlin.

_:: You look different, ::_ Aithusa observes.

Merlin strokes the dark beard he's recently started sporting. He currently has the appearance of a man in his early forties. "Yes, well – I fancied a bit of a change."

_:: This kind of facial hair is definitely not for you. Otherwise, you look fine. ::_

Merlin chuckles, and lets his arm drop. "You, too. Tell me about where you were?"

And she does. They talk for hours, and Merlin doesn't even notice the sun breaking until Aithusa points it out for him. He goes back to the town he's living in for now after they set a date for their next meeting.

They often meet during the next year, and when the time comes again, Merlin leaves with Aithusa and not by himself. They agree on going back to Albion for a short time (Merlin spends a week by the Lake of Avalon while Aithusa flies through the island), before heading for north where they spend roughly fifty years in each of the Nordic countries.

Merlin is happy that Aithusa is back with him, but it's getting more and more difficult to hide her. She is aware of the problems her size causes, and does not like it one bit that she cannot fly freely whenever she wants. She tells Merlin about how she met two ancient dragons – the very lasts of their kind, surely – in the Chinese Empire while traveling around the Far East, and how she didn't need to hide this much while being there. She tells Merlin that people respect dragons and magical creatures there, and that the land still harbours magic within its grounds, unlike the places Merlin had stayed in.

They visit Iceland but leave after a few years. They spend some decades in the Duchy of Bavaria of the Holy Roman Empire before moving to south, to the Hammadite Kingdom. It's burning hot and only the greatest of spells could make Merlin blend in with these dark-skinned people, but he enjoys his stay nonetheless. Aithusa leaves him again, saying that she can't stand this climate, but she comes back to Merlin at least once in every half year. Whilst traveling around the continent, Merlin learns how to ride camels, marvels at the beauty of pyramids and digs himself into the local's ancient culture and religion.

When they return to Europe, Merlin has to re-explore it completely because even the places where he had stayed for decades have changed. He lives in Little Poland for a while, then in the Kingdom of Hungary, followed by Bulgaria and the Roman Empire.

He is residing in Athens when the Great Plague breaks out. This is the first time in centuries that Merlin uses his magic to its full extent. He moves along with the disease and tries to help as many people as it is within his power, but it's not nearly enough. He can't meet up with Aithusa nowadays, not even at nights, but she connects their souls for most of the time so they can at least feel each other.

_:: You cannot heal everyone, Merlin, ::_ she tells him someday. She is far from the warlock, her voice sounds distant, but the sorrow she feels pangs in Merlin so strongly as if she was beside him. _:: This is bigger than you. ::_

Merlin does not answer. He wipes the sweat from his face and turns to the young boy who's barely breathing on the floor beside him. He knows he shouldn't heal directly unless he wants to be discovered, but it pains him to no end to see all these suffering around him.

The Black Death is spreading everywhere, though, and Merlin can't keep up with it any longer. He wants to send Aithusa away from the range of the disease, but she does not listen to him. _:: If I leave, you will undoubtedly do something terribly stupid. ::_

Two nights later, they meet up for the first time after half a year. Merlin tries reasoning with her ("Look, you don't have to worry about me. I'm immortal, aren't I?"), but when he fails with that, he is forced upon using his Dragonlord power.

"_Aithusa_," he roars in the ancient dragon tongue, "_I order you to leave and go to a place where the Black Death cannot reach you – and I forbid you to come back here before the disease passes!_"

Aithusa looks at him with fire in her eyes. Merlin hasn't used his Dragonlord power on her since the day of Camlann, and she no doubt thought that they were well behind it. Merlin feels guilty, but he knows he has to do this in order to get his friend to safety.

The dragon takes a step towards Merlin and towers above the man, making him tense up with nervousness.

_:: You want me to be safe. I understand. ::_ Merlin almost sighs in relief, but then he notices how her ice-blue eyes have turned positively freezing. _:: But you, too, must understand that I also wish nothing else for you. ::_

Before Merlin could say another word, Aithusa knocks him into unconsciousness with her strong tail.

By the time he wakes, they're half way across the Black Sea. Merlin gasps and yelps, only to have the wind swallow up the sounds, but at least it makes Aithusa notice that he has come round. She carries the man in her arms, sharp talons digging uncomfortably into Merlin's back and wings slapping icy air into his face with every stroke.

_:: You could not have remained unconscious a little longer, could you? ::_ she asks flatly.

_:: Aithusa, don't you dare– ::_

The dragon breathes on him, and Merlin feels the unnatural pull of darkness against his eyelids even before he could finish the sentence.

She surely repeats this act a couple of times after that, because when Merlin opens his eyes the next time (feeling like as if he'd just snored over a decade) they are on a lawn surrounded by enormous trees, among which a medium-sized, odd-looking wooden shrine stands.

The air smells really clear and the earth makes Merlin's magic prickle under his skin, and it's as if the whole forest is_ singing_ to him, welcoming.

"Where… Aithusa, where are we?" he demands, heart thumping hard against his ribs.

_:: In Japan. ::_

"In Jap… Wait, what, you've brought me across _half the world?_" He feels for the ground; he thinks he might faint. "After I _told_ _you_ I won't leave!"

_:: I had to. You were destroying yourself. ::_ Aithusa lowers her head so they're eye-to-eye. _:: You were not sleeping, you were not eating. It was devouring you, seeing all that death around you. ::_

"But at least I could _help _them! I–"

_:: There is no use in helping a fragment when it destroys your whole! ::_ Aithusa hisses angrily. _:: The plague is not stopping and you cannot save millions of people! I know it hurts to watch – it hurts_ me_ to watch – but you have to bear with it. This is life! ::_

Merlin clenches his hands so hard that his nails are digging into his palm painfully. "Take me back," he forces through his gritted teeth.

Aithusa inspects him with narrowed eyes for a long moment before shaking her head. _:: You ordered me to go away from where the Black Death can reach me and do not return until the disease passes… therefore, I can do no such thing. ::_

"But I never said you could take me with you!" Merlin shouts, desperate.

_:: You never said I could not, either. ::_

He groans at that, and punches his fist into the ground in frustration while the sky starts clouding and rumbling with rapid speed above the two of them.

_:: Oh, stop with the hysterics. ::_ Aithusa rolls her eyes. _:: I am sorry for betraying your trust, but I did this for you. Had our roles been reversed, I am sure you would have done the same. _:: She opens her wings, ready to take off. After she watches Merlin in silence for a few seconds, the fire finally leaves her eyes. _:: I will be close to you. Call for me when you feel ready. ::_ With that, she flies away.

Merlin stares after her for a long time.

* * *

He spends more than sixty years on the Japanese islands after that. At first he thinks about taking a ship back to west, but after cooling down and opening his mind, the country absolutely mesmerises him. It is one of the strangest lands he has ever set foot in: its language, its people and its culture – everything is completely different from what he has experienced before. There are samurais and temples and kimonos and all kind of amazing things, and Merlin sometimes almost forgets that he didn't come here on his own accord in the first place. There's tension in the air with the on-going fights for authority between the Northern and Southern Imperial Courts, but he can manage a mostly peaceful life here.

Merlin meets an elderly priest, Nobuyuki-dono, while stumbling down the mountain a day after Aithusa leaves him. The old man is standing at the gates of a large temple when he notices Merlin coming out of the forest – and at the sight of the warlock, he bows so deep in front of Merlin that one could have dinner on his absolutely horizontal back. He starts murmuring then, and even though he sounds calm and nice, Merlin considers running back to the woods for a long minute before he lets himself be invited into the temple.

The man keeps on talking to him respectfully, clearly oblivious to the fact that Merlin doesn't understand a thing he's saying. (Merlin suspects that the strange-sounding _fumetsusama _probably means him, since the old man keeps saying that word whenever he lifts his eyes to meet Merlin's.) They are far inside the building when Merlin finally has the chance to subtly mutter the spell that has always helped him overcome language barriers.

"… been awaiting you arrival, Immortal-sama," the priest continues. "We are honoured to have you here within our walls. Since last new moon…"

But Merlin can't hear what he's saying anymore because shock clenches at his heart and squeezes it so hard that he very nearly forgets to breathe. Immortal, that's what he called him – but how does he know? No one ever knows about him, it has been this way since the day of Camelot…

"_:: You mean you have been aware of your true name for as good as a century and never even realized the significance it holds? ::",_ Aithusa asked him once during their first year together, with sparks of mirth in her eyes. _":: Emrys means immortal. It is what you are, just as what you will be. It is your origin as it is your purpose. ::"_

"_You know, you start to sound dangerously like an old friend of mine who was always speaking in riddles,"_ Merlin said, unamused.

They never talked about it later (Aithusa wisely leaving the matter at that after realizing how uncomfortable Merlin was with the whole topic of his undying), but the warlock had learnt with time that the druids were not the only ones who had been foretold of his, well_, arrival_. Ambrose, Emeric, Khalid, Athanasios, Anirvan, Eilis, Chiranjeevi… Different names of different cultures, all for a single one person.

The Japanese, as Merlin learns, calls him 'Fumetsu no Watarimono' – the Immortal Wanderer. Nobuyuki-dono shows him a handscroll painting of a large mountain, above which a serpent-like dragon in the colour of snow is winding on the night sky. "The White Dragon has been witnessed flying over Mount Hiei many centuries ago," the priest explains. "Saying has it that whole forests came to life whilst the dragon passed, and spirits sent word to the priests that the Immortal One will come to our land someday. Last night I felt this mountain awaken, and spiritual energy has been stirring strongly within the earth ever since your arrival."

If by spiritual energy he means magic, Merlin is certainly feeling it, too.

After his initial discomfort over being found out subsides, he starts to enjoy himself rather immensely. Nobuyuki-dono resembles a kind hearted grandfather, and while Merlin still does not feel comfortable about being treated with this much awe and piety, he warms up to the residents of the temple; all of them are really nice and helpful to him despite clearly not being used to strangers. But the children are definitely the best. Nobuyuki-dono's eight-year-old grandchild, Satoru, quickly befriends the warlock, and he is the only one who's willing to call him by his given name.

"It still must be 'Fumetsu-sama' when the others are here," the boy says whilst marvelling in the sparkling lights that Merlin has charmed into the air. His gleeful expression takes Merlin back to the days of Rheged where he spent his free time making children happy with these small displays of magic, and he smiles, absorbed in memories. "Or else they will scold me."

Merlin assumes that if he'd managed to get used to being called Lord Emrys, he'll do with this Japanese variant, too.

He spends twenty-or-so years with them in the temple complex before leaving to explore other parts of the country. Nobuyuki-dono passed away long, and by now Satoru himself is a grown-up man.

"I hope that you will return here someday, Merlin," he says with a bow and a smile. Merlin bows back, and squeezes his friend's shoulder before leaving.

He has more or less perfected his knowledge about the culture, can speak the language rather well (though he still has trouble reading texts with difficult kanjis), has learnt calligraphy and is well educated in Shintoism and Buddhism – so Merlin is not troubled over how he will make his way in Japan. He travels around and never stays anywhere for long (thanks to which he doesn't need to bother with constantly altering his body), absorbing knowledge about everyone and everything, all the while helping those who are in need like some wandering monk. Common people usually give him hard looks (probably because his appearance is screaming of being an alien here, in spite of the traditional clothing he's acquired), but whenever he meets a priest around a shrine or a temple, they always seem to know immediately who he is. The deep bows he receives during his journeys never surprise him anymore.

As time passes, Merlin starts missing Aithusa dearly. He knows she is probably close (she had told him that much before), but he is also aware that he owes the dragon an apology. He came to realized that he really was destroying himself back then, and what Aithusa said was true – had their roles been reversed, he really would've done the same. He's not angry or upset anymore; the only lingering emotion he feels is regret over giving such a hard time to his best friend, his soul sister.

_:: Aithusa, ::_ he thinks one day with eyes closed, mind opened wide. _:: Aithusa, are you really close enough to hear me? ::_

For some taunting moments nothing happen and Merlin doesn't breathe, doesn't dare to let his thoughts stray to what-ifs, and he feels stupid and foolish for driving Aithusa away… but then the well-known consciousness creeps into his head from far, far away and Merlin very nearly chokes from relief.

_:: It took you long enough. ::_ Aithusa's voice sounds rather distant, but the smugness present in it couldn't be missed by a deaf.

_:: I'm sorry! ::_ Merlin says, echoing Aithusa's very first words to him. _:: I was stupid, all right? I know you just wanted the best for me. ::_

_:: That I wanted, indeed. ::_ The dragon is silent for a moment before letting the pleasure she feels upon finally connecting to Merlin flood the Dragonlord's mind. _:: Wait for me at the place where we parted. It might take me a week to get back there. ::_

And so Merlin returns to Mount Yoshino. The host of pink cherry trees are in full blossom, making the light breeze even more fragrant as it plays with the wind chimes of the shrines for as long as they all start tinkling delightfully.

The warlock does go back to the temple one last time. He is rejoiced to learn that Satoru is still very much alive, and he gives the man a heartfelt hug when they are face to face again.

"You look exactly like your grandfather did when I met him!" Merlin exclaims half-shocked at the obvious and unexpected resemblance, half-saddened at the even more obvious sign of passing time.

Satoru gives him a likewise half-joyful smile. "And you still never changed one bit." But then his smile becomes real and honest. "I'm happy you could come back."

They talk a lot during the next day, and when Aithusa informs Merlin that she'll be there by the following evening, he asks his old friend: "Have you ever seen a real dragon?"

The priest gapes with widened eyes and Merlin grins.

When Aithusa arrives, they are both waiting for her at the top of the mountain. She lets out a happy roar and Merlin rushes to her side, hugging her wide neck for all he's worth, while Satoru stands well behind them, a look of absolute joy and awe evident on his wrinkled face.

"God, I've missed you," Merlin sighs before lifting his head up to face the dragon's crystal blue eyes.

_:: Well, even a few decades can feel much longer when we part ways while being cross with each other, :: _she says in an as-a-matter-of-fact way, but Merlin swears he can hear the dragon _purr. :: Who is your friend? ::_

"His name is Satoru." The priest straightens at the sound of his name, as if he's just realized where he is.

"I am deeply honoured to have met you, O White Dragon," Satoru says with a bow so deep that Merlin wouldn't claim it possible for someone at his age.

_:: O-Hakuryuu? Is that supposed to be me? What is he saying? ::_

"What? Can't you… Oh! Oh, right, of course," Merlin stutters. He kept on speaking Japanese, just like Satoru, so no wonder that Aithusa got confused.

_:: I am _not _confused, ::_ Aithusa states sharply, making the warlock jerk. :: _And do not start fretting, Merlin! Every time I leave for a while and you learn a new language, you do this. If I was not connected to your mind so strongly I could not understand a thing you are saying, so bear with it or revert back to our native. ::_ A thought hardly springs into existence in Merlin's mind when Aithusa is already replying to it. _:: And no, I will _not _connect to your friend to understand him. He is of no importance to me. I do not wish to enter his mind. ::_

_:: I hate it when you do this, :: _Merlin thinks before saying aloud: "She greets you with pleasure, Subaru."

_:: I said nothing of such. ::_

_:: But were you a lizard of just a bit more grace, you would have. ::_

_:: You are not exactly fit to educate me in manners, Merlin. And what kinds of inept thoughts are running through your head now, showing me to him? It is HIM that you are showing to ME! ::_

Merlin laughs, and then Aithusa is laughing too – a rich, rumbling laugh from the depth of her throat –, and they can't seem to stop it even when they take off to the sky, leaving a bewildered old man looking after them with a smile on his face for as long as they disappear into the night.

* * *

They spend most of the fifteenth century in various states and cities of the Italian peninsula. Merlin lives in Sicily before leaving the island for Naples, followed by Rome and Florence. He spends most of his time in the latter; the city is full of life, arts and wonders, all of which Merlin enjoys thoroughly.

_:: You mean you enjoy _your lad_ thoroughly. ::_

"Aithusa, shut up."

Okay, so maybe Merlin befriends a young man in his twenties, and maybe a couple of years later they decide that friendship is not all they are willing to give each other. But no one can judge him for finding some pleasure on the sheets, really. Having casual goes at sex are not exactly news to him (though it's sure that he was a late bloomer: Merlin doesn't doubt that if he ever confessed to anyone – which he absolutely won't – that he was well over two-hundred by the time he lost his virginity, they'd think him crazy), but this is the first time he lets 'casual' turn into 'continuous'. His heart is not in it for the long run (_it can't be enough, never can be enough_, Merlin thinks with a pang of grief), but he's quite fond of the lad and he likes spending time with him. Leo is incredibly sharp and great, all blond locks and brilliant eyes, head full of wild, wonderful ideas. They talk for hours in and out of bed; to the man's eager wish (besides various other things, he's also studying to be a doctor of medicines) Merlin teaches him about herbs and cures and, well, everything he knows about healing – and he in return learns about mathematics and arts from the man, all the while working on perfecting his feeble Latin knowledge.

They last for four years, and while Merlin still suffers from the melancholy stirs of the what-ifs and what-couldn't-bes of a long lost life that he does his best to push to the back of his mind, he's happy to have gained the friendship and affection of this remarkable young man. Life is still ruthless, however. One afternoon they're caught in flagrante by the elderly woman living next door, and before long, _someone _accuses Leo anonymously with sodomy. Merlin is really upset with the whole world and worries sick for his freshly charged friend-slash-lover, but this event causes the Florentine court to realize that Merlin is practically a ghost with no records, relatives or any kind of past, and thus he is forced to flee. Leo is quite understanding – he doesn't ask for explanations, just kisses Merlin goodbye and wishes him luck before showing him gently out of the house.

And so Merlin leaves Florence (but not before altering the neighbour's memories so she cannot be summoned in as a witness) and moves onto the Republic of Venice. For the lack of mounts and highland fields, Aithusa can't hide in this town so she leaves Merlin for a while and flies higher up at North. She is still close, though, close enough to connect their minds and while Merlin doesn't fancy much talking nowadays, he's grateful for the silent comfort and company the dragon gives him.

He's managing his life like he always did, but at the same time it's not quite the same and he is all too aware of it. He avoids people as much as he can and puts down his human connections to the necessary minimum. He does not have friends here, no one even knows him. Venice is one amazing place, full of canals and bridges and narrow alleys, yet Merlin doesn't marvel at the sights and landscapes like he did in Japan or all that preceded that.

_:: It was high time you experienced this. ::_

Merlin knits his brows at the sound of Aithusa's voice but does not cease scrubbing his muddy shoes sourly. _:: Why, thank you for being so sympathetic. I love it when you try and fail to be nice. ::_

Aithusa ignores the sour reply.

_:: You never let anyone close to your heart, :: _she says, voice resonating long inside Merlin's head. _:: You are always kind and caring on the surface but beneath all that, you desperately cling to the sequestered, solitary life you have built up. That boy somehow managed to push past your self-raised barricades and touch something in you. That is what you can feel now, and as I stated a moment ago, it was high time. ::_

Merlin doesn't say anything, just keeps on cleaning his shoes furiously. But thoughts are running through his head with no end, and Aithusa of course feels the absolute unnecessary need to address all of them. _:: Yes, it is painful. Yes, I know that you are afraid of lasting human connections. No, you are anything but weak. I do not believe that the gods have decided this for you as a way of extremely cruel punishment for whatever imaginary deeds you think you have committed. You do not want to feel your heart? I am afraid you cannot help that, my foolish friend. Yes, I know that you hate it when I do this. No, I will not shut up. ::_

Merlin throws the shoes to the wall and buries his head in his hands. Something tugs at his chest with breath-taking pain when he thinks about Leo, and Merlin remembers that this is why he never bothered with relationships. Then he remembers the reason he had closed off his heart in the first place all those centuries ago… and when his thoughts wander to a particular person whom Merlin did his damn best not to think of, there's no stopping it anymore – it's all coming back to him, all coming back. He chokes a sob and tries to push the memories back but he's desperately clinging to them all the same, not willing to let any of them go.

Beyond the precious memories, Merlin feels the tension and surprise in Aithusa at experiencing the thousands of emotions that flood him. She feels a slight regret for forcing this break-down out of Merlin but she believes that this had to be done. Merlin chokes again, and groans and sobs simultaneously.

His heart is thumping madly in his chest, all thoughts focused on one single person. The voice he'd believed to be long forgotten, the shape of blue eyes, the hands, the lips. Mouth shouting, mouth smirking, mouth gaping, mouth smiling at Merlin.

_:: You are not waiting in vain, Merlin. You are not, ::_ Aithusa whispers to his unsaid questions, voice tight with sorrow. :_: No, I do not know the answer to that… But I know it will happen. It will. Someday. ::_

This is the first time in many centuries that Merlin cries – the first time he breaks down completely since the loss of his other half. Aithusa says nothing more for the whole time; she just stays with him, folding Merlin in the warmth of her consciousness. The next day they agree without words on not mentioning this incident ever again.

When the second Ottoman-Venetian war breaks out, Merlin leaves the warring state on the back of Aithusa. She doesn't need to ask where they're going.

They head for Albion.

* * *

Albion – or as they call it now, Great Britain – has changed just as much in the time Merlin had been gone as any other part of the world, but he feels it more intensely here at his birthplace. The lands which he used to know better than his palm now look alien and strange to him, but a small part, a small tiny part of them are still recognisable, making Merlin sigh with nostalgia. The people are different, the language is different, the towns and cities are different, too – but the forests and lakes and mountains are whispering to him, welcoming Merlin back like a mother would his child.

They have a hard time finding Avalon – the landscape is so nothing like how it was that they have trouble recognising it, but the lake itself is seemingly untouched by time. Merlin feels a lump in his throat when he gets off of the dragon and steps onto the shore of the lake for the first time in centuries, and his eyes are stuck to the faraway Isle so hard that he doesn't even notice Aithusa leaving. An eerie air surrounds the place, and Merlin feels relief and contentment all at the same time.

He drops to his knees in front of the lake and buries his arms in the water to the elbows. Coldness creeps into his arms, numbing his fingers, but he doesn't care about it a bit.

"I'm back," he whispers breathily, eyes never leaving the shining surface of the water. "Oh, God, I'm really back. How I wish you would…" He stops himself by biting on his tongue.

His heart hammers loud against his ribs, and Merlin closes his eyes. All the feelings he'd buried deep in himself for centuries are awakening and it's nearly too much, and yet far from being enough. Pretending to forget Camelot and the life he'd lead there was easy while travelling around the world, but here he can't keep up with the pretences. Here, he doesn't _want_ to.

"I've been waiting for you for so long, Arthur, so long… Sometimes I feel like it will never end. If only I could know for sure that you really will be coming back! Perhaps I wouldn't feel this miserable then. You know I'm ready to wait for you a thousand more years – hell, I'd wait for you a myriad, if it's needed – but I can't help with what I'm feeling. I… I miss you so much." There, he'd said it. Merlin takes a deep breath to calm himself down, but there's no stopping it once he had started. "I make myself forget, I pretend that you never existed but I'm never able to do that for long. I can't help missing… Christ, look at me, saying these things – you were right to call me a big girl!"

Merlin laughs without a trace of joy in it. He pulls his arms out of the lake and sits back, glazing numbly at the Isle.

"Freya, give him back, all right? I don't care when you do it, just… just whatever happens, do it for sure."

He sits there fixed by the lake until Aithusa comes back for him. She doesn't ask anything, and doesn't make a comment, even when Merlin hugs her neck tightly for the whole time they fly.

* * *

Henry the Eighth is ridiculous. Merlin's right there in London when he is crowned, just like he's there when the King divorces from his first wife, executes his second, buries his third, divorces from his fourth and executes his fifth. After he marries for the sixth time, Merlin decides it's time to move on. It can't be healthy for him to forever keep on comparing the now reigning ruler of England to Arthur.

He travels around, re-acquainting himself with the land. He's embarrassed to note that his native tongue is not one people still comprehend, so Merlin has to start learning it nearly all over again. It's very strange, and he briefly wonders what he will do if he comes back to England again in the faraway future only to have the language changed again.

He settles down for a few years working as a tailor, and starts altering his appearance again. He sees a caravan of traders once, selling Japanese goods they'd just brought back from the Far East, and Merlin doesn't hesitate buying a small wind chime for old time's sake. He puts it above the door of his workshop, and delights in the sound it makes whenever a client comes in.

One day Aithusa's voice start buzzing softly in his mind. He feels some strange emotions coming from her which he can't grip, but before he has the chance to ask, the dragon says: _:: I want us to go to Scotland. ::_

She has never said before that she wants to go somewhere this directly. This is a first, and Merlin blinks a couple of times trying to understand the reason behind the words, but for once, Aithusa's mind is strangely guarded from him.

_:: All right, ::_ he says finally. _:: When would you like to leave? ::_

_:: Next week. ::_

Again, not a request but a demand. Merlin frowns. He knows that Aithusa can feel his puzzlement, so he's even more surprised when she says nothing. _:: Fine. I'll shut down the shop, and we can leave next week. Let me know when you're close and I'll go out to meet you. ::_

_:: Good. ::_ Silence, and then, _:: Thank you, Merlin. ::_

Aithusa doesn't contact him during the week and when they finally meet up one late afternoon she acts kind of distant, keeping her emotions strictly in check and out of Merlin's reach. When the man tentatively asks her however, she smiles and lowers her head to face the warlock. The azure eyes are filled with warmth and affection. _:: Do not worry. All is just as it should be. ::_

Odd reply as it is, Merlin can't wonder for any longer because Aithusa nudges him to climb up to her back. The warlock complies swiftly and a few minutes later, they take off.

It's well past sunset by the time Aithusa starts slowing down. There are small traces of human inhabitancy beneath them in the form of blinking light-spots in the massive darkness, but the dragon flies up even higher, taking aim at the nearby towering mountain and so the town disappears from their sight. It's quite cold this high up, not to mention the icy wind that slaps Merlin's face mercilessly with every wing-beat, so he casts a small heating charm to stop his members from freezing rigid.

Aithusa finally starts descending and after a few more minutes, she drops to earth on the summit of the mountain. Merlin climbs down from her and looks around bewitched, marvelling at the amazing sight.

It's like they're at the top of the world. The breathtakingly beautiful starry sky seems so close to them that Merlin feels like he could unhang the brilliant moon from it if he'd just stretch his arm out. A few grey clouds circle above them, shockingly close yet still very distant, and the scarce snow on the rocky ground gleams softly in the night, as if it was charmed to light the whole summit up for the visitors. For a moment, every thought leave the warlock's mind while he stands there stupefied among the sea of rocks, mouth agape, eyes wide.

By the time Merlin regains his senses, Aithusa has already lied down in front of him and now she's inspecting the man with amused glints in her eyes. _:: I knew you would find this place nice. ::_

"Nice?" Merlin repeats in disbelief, because really, this has got to be the biggest understatement he'd heard in his life. And that's saying something. "Aithusa, this is… it's… it is way more than 'nice'! It's… What is this place, anyway?"

Aithusa makes a gentle laugh at his eloquence. _:: Beinn Nibheis. Its name is said to derive from 'beinn n__è__amh-bhathais' – a mountain with its head in the heavens. ::_

"So… the mountain of Heaven, is it? Beautiful." Merlin looks around one more time. "I remember seeing it from far away when I lived around here before, but I never quite imagined it's like this from up here."

_:: I, too, have seen it in my first years. With Morgana. :: _She's silent for a moment. :: _She found it beautiful. Said that the view from the top must be heavenly. ::_

Merlin takes his eyes away from the jewel-like stars and looks back at the dragon. She hasn't mentioned Morgana since… well, since a long time ago. "And why did we come here now?" he asks cautiously.

Aithusa locks their eyes together then, and a heavy emotion springs into existence in Merlin's chest from the look of the azure orbs.

_:: I have chosen this place for my Vigil Night, ::_ she says slowly, _:: for my time has come. ::_

"What? No!" Merlin is shaking his head wildly even before his brain has a chance to fully process the statement. Suddenly it all clicks together, her strange mood, her guardedness, this place… "No. Aithusa, no. No." And Merlin is practically pleading now. "_No._"

_:: Merlin, you are well aware that no one can change the course of life and death. I am old, and my time has come. The only regret I have is that from now on I cannot be at your side. ::_

"Please, Aithusa." Merlin can barely force the words out, his throat and chest feels so tight from emotions. "Please don't leave me alone."

Something breaks in him at his own words, shattering his heart into tiny little fragments. He remembers brushing the dying Will's hair, holding Freya in his arms, crying over the dead body of his father, looking long after Kilgharrah, sending Arthur off in the boat, holding Gaius's hand on his deathbed, sitting still by his mother's grave… and Merlin is suddenly scared – no, _terrified_ at the thought of losing Aithusa as well.

The dragon senses his emotions. She moves her head close to Merlin and nudges the warlock with her nose. The warmth of her breath makes Merlin shiver and his heart ache all the more when he looks into the crystals of her eyes. _:: You will never be alone, Merlin. Despite all I have committed against you and those dear to you, you still let me into your heart. As long as you keep that part of me close, I will not ever be truly parted from you. ::_

Hot tears burn beneath his eyes, but Merlin doesn't let them burst into the surface. He tries to hold himself together and be strong, but his grief is already so deep that he has to grip Aithusa to not waver. There are no barriers between them anymore; he can feel the dragon's heart and soul as clearly as if they were his own. He knows that Aithusa is not afraid of dying. She's content and happy to have led a peaceful life with his friend and almost-sibling. She feels that the gods have forgiven her for the missteps of her first years – not for saving Morgana (she still believes it with all her heart that she was right to save the woman, and even Merlin is not sure he doubts it for any longer), but for not being able to stand up and smooth away the differences between the two sides. And he feels her sincere worry – for him. The only thing Aithusa fears is that Merlin will not be able to bear the loss of her.

"You still look good," the warlock says quietly. He sounds terribly hoarse. "Kilgharrah looked really battered when he came to bid farewell to me. You don't. Why do you have to go?" Pathetic. He can't even bring himself to say it out loud without feeling like being strangled.

_:: My late master was well beyond our natural lifespan by the time you met him; his destiny has required that of him in order to be able to guide you. He was centuries older than a thousand years – very-very old even with the reckoning of my race. ::_ Aithusa's eyes flutter closed for a second, and she leans into the touch of Merlin's trembling hands_. :: I am different. I have felt my calling and I am ready to leave the world of the living. I have many years behind myself which I have lived to the fullest, and I was fortunate enough to be able to share them with you. ::_ She looks into Merlin's eyes and he can see the gentle smile on her face. _:: For that, I thank you, my brother. ::_

Merlin feels like as if his heart is being ripped out of his chest.

"I don't want you to leave," he whispers, broken.

_:: And I do not want to leave you, ::_ Aithusa answers sincerely. _:: But I have to. And you have to be strong, Merlin. For me. For Arthur. For your dream. ::_

Merlin closes his eyes and lets Aithusa wrap her wings around him, folding him into her embrace. He hugs her back tightly, and forces the question out of himself in his cracked voice, "What's a Vigil Night?"

_:: It is the departing ritual of my kind. When our natural passing time comes and we feel our calling, we chose a place with special significance to us and keep wake there, slowly putting every part of our body and mind to sleep. This way our soul and magic will not break out into the open air and dissolve but pour back into the earth and merge with it, becoming one with the very essence of nature. ::_

"Sounds nice." Merlin clears his throat, and lets Aithusa's calmness sooth his worries and fears away. "So this is what Uther did, then? By killing dragons who have not yet reached their natural passing time, he made sure that their magic would disappear?"

_:: I do not believe he was aware. We rarely ever talk about our ways to humans. ::_ Pride flickers in Merlin's chest at the statement. Clearly, he is above the classification. _:: But yes, he did that. Kilgharrah has told me all I needed to know about it: unimaginable amount of magic disappeared from the world during the Great Purge, and this is one of the main reasons why magic has started to diminish. Humans do not possess the ability to give it back to the earth, and those magical creatures that do have nearly all became extinct. ::_

"If so, then what will happen? Will magic eventually disappear from the world?"

_:: No. You cannot make magic disappear completely just like you can't make the sun stop shining. It is part of the world we live in, and it always finds its way to keep on existing. Right now, it survived by concentrating all of itself in a single being. ::_ Aithusa looks pointedly at Merlin, and after a few silent seconds the warlock gasps in understanding.

"You can't mean that!" he exclaims in disbelief.

_:: Oh, but I do. And I think that deep down you have always known it, too. The origin of your unthinkable powers, the cause of your immortality – you became like this so you can serve as the sole living vessel of magic, Merlin. You keep magic alive and magic keeps you alive. It is as simple as that. ::_

"It's anything but simple!" Merlin bites at his lip, feeling faint at this sudden revelation about his 'curse'. "What about Arthur? I thought my destiny was to stand by his side, not to be the storing bin of magic!"

_:: Do you think that we have only one purpose in life? It was your destiny to aid the Once and Future King, and you have fulfilled that splendidly. This is why magic chose you – this is why you have become who and what you are now. You were a promise of something even greater during your years at Camelot, Merlin, and then you truly became 'Emrys' for good. ::_

:: Are you talking about the Crystal Cave? ::

Aithusa looks deep into his eyes. _:: Yes. You are aware that you were not immortal before you stood into the light in the heart of the Cave. However, you were the child of magic: strong and brave, and so magic placed its essence in you. Every cell of your body pulses with magic – you share breath, you share heartbeat. And one day, you will give it all back to the earth. ::_

Merlin swallows, trying to comprehend it all. He remembers Balinor's words form that day, he remembers the strange yet familiar feeling that filled him under the light of the crystals. He really has known all of this somewhere deep down, he supposes.

"So one day I will die?" he asks then hopefully. "I won't be immortal forever? One day I will die and all the magic in me will return to the nature? But you said that humans don't possess the ability to–"

_:: You are no ordinary human, Merlin. Never were. You are magic itself – therefore I am giving myself to you with death. ::_

And back to the current situation. Merlin's heart still aches at the thought of his friend dying, even though he more-or-less accepted its happening. But accepting doesn't make it a bit easier.

He sits on the rocky ground beside Aithusa and leans into her body, happy to feel the warmth that spreads from her hard scales. "So can I keep a Vigil Night, too? When my time comes?"

_:: If you choose so. Would you like to? ::_

"I think I would," Merlin replies with closed eyes. It's really peaceful like this, feeling Aithusa breathe against his body, listening to the even sound of her heartbeat. "I definitely would. I'd go to somewhere nice… Somewhere like this place. You choose well. I like it here."

_:: I like it, too. It feels close. ::_

Merlin doesn't need to ask what or whom she's feeling close to. It's pretty obvious, here, at the summit of a mountain that has its top in the heavens.

They sit in silence after that for most of the night. Aithusa lays her head onto the ground and closes her eyes, only communicating through the emotions she shares with Merlin. Merlin shows her his memories about the old Morgana as a gift, for which he knows she's extremely grateful, and when he runs out of those, he shows memories about Arthur, Kilgharrah, Gaius… everyone in Camelot. He hasn't let himself being this nostalgic since he left Albion, but now it feels oddly comfortable to just sit there on the hard, rocky ground with Aithusa under the beautiful stars that sparkle like scattered jewels on the black canvas of the sky, and do nothing but smile and laugh and snort together, reviving all they've lived to tell.

But time does not slow down even for a second, and the closer it gets to dawn, the more restless Merlin becomes. Aithusa on the other hand is as calm and peaceful as a lake would be on a warm, sunny springtime day. She hasn't been moving for some time now – Merlin thinks that maybe she's not even capable of that anymore –, she just blinks up lazily at the warlock with a serene expression on her face.

_:: I have to cut off our connection soon, ::_ she says quietly when the first pinkish rays of the morning sun starts breaking the night sky. _:: Magic is leaving me. But I must ask you one last favour, Merlin. ::_

"I know." Merlin fixates his eyes on the ground, not trusting himself to look into the azure eyes of his friend. He knows it fully well what Aithusa means; there are no secrets left between them, not after spending the whole night being so deeply connected.

Dragons usually keep their Vigil Night alone. The only reason Aithusa has brought him with her is that she needs Merlin to do one last, final thing for her. One last thing, which will no doubt break Merlin's heart – because really, even thinking about it leaves a terrible heart-wrenching feeling behind his ribs.

_:: I am sorry I have to ask this of you, ::_ Aithusa says, and the sincere regret is evident in her voice. _:: But I can ask no one else. ::_

"I know," Merlin repeats, finally lifting his eyes. "I understand. Don't worry."

Gratitude and fondness make Aithusa's eyes soften as she flashes a small, gentle smile at Merlin who puts his right hand on the dragon's head and strokes the snow-white scales absent-mindedly. His throat feels tight, burning, but he forces himself to stay composed. The situation is not exactly new to him, he's done this before – but it never gets easier. With Arthur, he spent every minute in desperate denial; with Gaius, it was just sadness and grief pulling at his heart throughout the night. Now, however, now Merlin can't keep the fear of being left alone away from his thoughts, and he knows that he's terribly selfish for thinking like this.

_:: Oh, Merlin, ::_ Aithusa sighs, and Merlin freezes, his petting hand coming to a halt. _:: Only you would think of such rubbish. You are the most selfless person I have ever known. ::_

_:: The only people you have really known are Morgana and I, and, well, maybe Mordred. It wasn't exactly a tight contest, ::_ Merlin thinks automatically. It should feel stupid, joking at Aithusa's deathbed, but the light chuckling the dragon lets out at his words makes it all right.

The sun peaks the top of its head over the horizon, and in that exact moment Aithusa tenses, fixing her eyes strictly forward. Her pupils narrow and she looks like as if she's watching something, but even though Merlin follow the route of her eyes, he sees nothing aside from the dusty rocks on the ground. Panic grips hardly at his chest. "Aithusa?"

The dragon still looks at the invisible something, blue orbs moving in swift, tiny motions, but her body relaxes and she lets out a breathless, happy yowl. _:: Oh, thank the gods! Thank the gods! ::_

"What? What is it? Aithusa, what happened?"

_:: The gods have granted me the chance of giving you a farewell gift, my friend. _:: A brilliant smile blossoms on her face, sharp teeth shining in the faint light, and suddenly Aithusa seems like melting into satisfied happiness, every trace of tension evaporating from her body._ :: I can see it as clearly as if I was there. It is a warm, sunny day with a light summer rain. Birds are singing loudly above your head while you stand on a large bridge unlike anything I have ever seen. You stand there and look pensively at the lake… That is when you saw him for the first time. ::_ Aithusa's smile softens, and Merlin can feel his breath hitch. _:: You fail to recognise him at first. That is not a surprise, for he is not like how you used to know him. But when realization dawns on you, you start stuttering and hammering like a village idiot… I see you will never grow out of that. He calls your name even though he does not remember you. But he will. With time. Oh, just look at that. :: _Aithusa laughs, happy beyond measure, and all of her feelings are so clear and honest that the hammering heart of Merlin fills up with hope to the point of overflowing. _:: That, my dear brother Merlin, is the widest smile I have ever seen in my life. ::_

Merlin hugs Aithusa's neck and buries his head into her shoulder, choking and sobbing, head way too messy to form one coherent thought, never mind a sentence.

But the dragon understands. She lets go of the vision and looks at the wretch of a man by her side, wide azure eyes shining like two marvellous gemstones. _:: Hey. ::_ And she nudges her nose softly to the warlock.

_:: Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, ::_ is the only thought that can still exist in Merlin's mind. He's not even hugging but clinging to Aithusa now, and he probably couldn't be moved from her if his life was at stake. "I… I'll miss you so much." His voice is throaty and cracked from sobbing, barely comprehendible, but at least it makes it all the more heartfelt.

He can feel the soft beating of Aithusa's heart against his own, the warm blanket of her body heat, but when her consciousness abruptly disappears from his mind as if cut by a knife, Merlin chokes out a grief-sickened moan. It feels empty and strange to be completely alone with his thoughts and emotions, and it hurts him almost physically to not have his spiritual sister's calmness sooth his broken soul. Aithusa is probably too weak by now to maintain their connection, and her absence feels wrong and alien, like being separated from part of himself. Merlin hates it, and the feeling makes him sob all the more.

The rising sun paints beautiful patches of brilliant orange and burning red onto the sky, bathing the motionlessly lying Aithusa in shining golden light. Merlin looks at her, takes in how the once pathetically deformed dragon looks positively divine in the morning illumination, and he comes to a sudden realization.

"I named you Aithusa," he starts rasping as soon as he finds his voice, "after the light of the sun. I didn't fully process the meaning back then. It was just something that sprung into my mind in the moment, and it felt right so I went with it. Later, I thought it was fitting; how Arthur was the Golden King, the sun of my life… and I assumed that you would be to the aid of Arthur, that you'd help him build his perfect kingdom once magic was allowed back… but then nothing turned out the way I wanted it, and I felt stupid for giving such a name to someone who'd rather help my enemy than me."

He strokes and pets the top of Aithusa's head as a way of showing that he doesn't mean those words anymore. Aithusa does not look at him guilty or embarrassed: her eyes are clear and still, only the briefest wonder present as to why Merlin is telling her that.

"But then the war happened, and I was left with no home. I began this crazy, solitary wandering around the world which seemed like it would never end, and one day, you showed up. And after that, I started to understand." Merlin takes a deep breath before leaning forward until his forehead touches Aithusa's temple. He can feel the faint puffs of her breath on his skin, the gentle rising of her side, and he finds comfort in those little movements. "I realized that you were never meant to be a light for Arthur. You were meant to be a light for _me_ – to make the roads of my lonesome journey shine."

Aithusa closes her eyes, smiling as she leans into Merlin's touch. She looks peaceful, serene, and Merlin briefly wonders if Kilgharrah had also ended his Vigil Night with a similar expression on his face.

"And, you know, I think you were exactly _that_ for Morgana, too," he adds then on a sudden impulse. "In her world with nothing but darkness, you were the only light for her lost soul. You kept the side of her which was untouched by evil shining… and I think she was grateful for that. I _am_ grateful for that." Merlin closes his eyes and press his face as close to his friend as he can, tightening his embrace. "See, you are a wonderful dragon, Aithusa; great and wise, just like your mentor was. I think he'd be proud of you."

He feels Aithusa breathe a sigh, her heart thumping loud against his before eventually slowing down. Merlin sucks his lower lip in to stop himself from crying out again, but he can't help the hot tears that fill his eyes so much that he can barely see anything. The only thing he can make out from the world is a huge, snowy white patch, clear and flawless as the purest of pearls.

When he finds his voice at last it's nothing more but a hoarse whisper, but he wills himself to keep smiling, to keep smiling as he lets her go. "Thank you for being here with me."

Minutes later, Aithusa's heart stops beating. Merlin feels the exact moment when life leaves her body, and when that happens, he can't find the strength in himself for any longer to hold back the tears that burn his eyes from inside like liquid fire.

He presses his forehead to the motionless dragon, and cries.

* * *

By noon, Merlin's tears dry up. He stands on the very edge of the summit of Beinn Nibheis, looking down at the seemingly endless fields and faraway towns. Behind him, there is a strangely shaped boulder among the sea of smaller rocks – something that looks strikingly like a petrified form of a dragon.

Merlin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He has done it; he has fulfilled that last, painful request that Aithusa had asked of him. It's not like he doesn't understand fully well why it was absolutely necessary to do this. But it was still painful beyond measure.

He left nothing for future visitors to find. Every part of her became one with nature, just like how she wanted it.

Well… almost every part.

Merlin resists the urge to touch the snow-white pendant that hangs from a leather lace around his neck, safely hidden under his dark brown doublet. He'd been feeling for it countless times in the past few hours – he must put a stop to that now.

"Sleep well, sister," he says quietly, glancing one last time at the oddly shaped cliff.

Fortunately, not touching the scale all the time does nothing to reduce the warm feeling that radiates to Merlin's chest from it.

It's quite a comforting discovery.

* * *

Living in the world without his sole companion is hard. It feels empty, lonesome and _long_; time seemingly moves in a terribly, terribly slow motion. Years that used to fly away within a blink of an eye now drag on endlessly and Merlin suffers through every waking moment of the slowly passing days, weeks and months. He's already forgotten how this feels – he's already forgotten what life was like before he reconciled with Aithusa. He keeps reaching out with his mind for her absent-mindedly and every time he realizes that she's not there anymore, Merlin sinks deeper and deeper into depression.

Since he figures it can't make things worse, he goes back to Avalon. It' a stormy day with cold, heavy winds but the pour evades this place for some reason.

"She's gone," is the first thing Merlin states in front of the Isle. And the second as well. "She's _gone._ What should I do now, Arthur? Freya?"

But the lake remains silent.

The warlock walks to the very edge of the pool, stopping only when the tips of his shoes are already touching the water. Icy wind strokes his cheeks, making his already cracked lips numb from cold but it feels good, feels oddly, unbelievably good. He touches his fingertips to his face and shivers at the chilling coldness that radiates from them. His whole body is frozen and rigid…

Merlin is walking forward without even realizing it. One step, two steps, three steps… by the time he notices where he's heading, he's in the water up to his mid-thighs – yet he doesn't stop. Chill runs through every part of Merlin, making his members numb but blood is boiling hot under his skin, and he _feels _it. He shivers hard when the icy water reaches his neck and a little part of him actually _dies_ when the surface closes up above his head.

_Maybe I'm not even really immortal_, he thinks while walking even deeper inside. _Maybe I'm just not aging. Maybe I should have done this centuries ago._

But time passes, and Merlin is still breathing. The dancing bubbles of his breath sprang up to the surface like hundreds of shining pearls and _that _sight sobers Merlin up. He looks around, perplexed, as if he's just noticing where he is.

He's standing_ inside_ the lake. Good gods!

Merlin blinks hard, and the water feels funny on his eyes, but he doesn't mind it. He looks around again with wide eyes, jaw falling agape because everything that's holy, what had he done?! Should Aithusa know about this, she'd no doubt…

The quick hammering of his heart quickly dies down at the thought as Merlin reminds himself that no; Aithusa won't say anything because she's _dead_. Dead like Arthur. Dead like everyone whom Merlin has ever loved.

_:: Oh, Merlin. ::_

Merlin snaps his head up, eyes searching frantically for the source of the voice. He can see nothing, nothing at all, but the water suddenly feels much warmer around him than how it felt a moment before, and the gentle flow envelops him, caressing like a loving hand would…

And then there really_ is_ a hand – a creamy white, fragile one followed by a long, slender arm, a swan-neck and a smiling rose-mouth… The spirit warps her arms around him in a tight yet tender embrace, long brown tufts of hair floating in every direction while Merlin's heart swells and his mind goes numb. He can do nothing but stand there, let the wonder of a being kiss him on the corner of the mouth and look down at him, sad eyes filled with worry and sorrow.

_:: Be strong, my dearest, :: _Merlin can hear in his head.

He wants to say something – ask, plead, demand – but Freya, beautiful Freya just slowly shakes her head and puts one finger between them like it was a shield. _:: Go. This place is not for you. Not yet. ::_

With a last sad smile at Merlin's direction, she's gone as quickly as if she'd just dissolved into water.

Merlin keeps standing there at the bottom of the lake for a long time, not moving an inch (and if he were to secretly hope for another dead spirit to show up abruptly in front of him, well, there's nothing wrong with it, right?) but after seconds and minutes and maybe even hours pass without anything happening, he accepts defeat.

He stumbles out of the lake and sprawls on the shore, not even bothering with drying himself. The surrounding woods are not as isolated anymore as they used to be, there are villages and smaller towns getting closer and closer as time goes by, but this place, this shore is still Merlin's sanctuary. So he stays there until he finds temporary peace.

Come next noon, he knows he behaved idiotically. Arthur and Aithusa would probably lash out on him terribly for attempting what he attempted. Merlin can't be that much of a fool from now on.

There is no place for self-pity and depression, he decides. He still has a purpose in life, and he must do everything in his power to fulfil that purpose or else he will not deserve to have his dream come true. Aithusa has given him the biggest gift Merlin could ever hope for: the reassurance that his waiting is not in vain. He must prove to be worthy of that gift.

He has to make sure that his long wait won't roll by meaninglessly.


	3. That new thread, he picks up

3.

That new thread, he picks up

.

Merlin figures that the Great Purge of Camelot must have been something akin to this: forever hiding, learning to never trust anyone, lying rotten, playing fraud and masking yourself to the point where even you cannot tell the difference between self and disguise anymore. Getting used to the screams you hear at night, learning not to flinch at the reek of burning human bodies, burying your heart deep down so it won't shatter every time you see a weeping children being tied to stake.

It's like having hundreds of Uthers all at the same time shouting WITCHCRAFT! HANG THE WITCH, BURN THE SORCERER – THEY ARE WORSHIPPERS OF THE DEVIL! HANG THEM, KILL THEM, ERASE THEM!

Loud midnight interrogations and public tortures have become common. People are frightened to death if they have so much as a mole on their faces. And the saddest thing is that rarely – if ever – a real sorcerer is caught; the suspected are usually normal people who just happened to have a strange sign on their bodies, know a bit about practical healing or have unfortunate acquaintances. Merlin witnesses quite a few executions where the only 'crime' the accused committed is being a blood kin to another acknowledged magic practiser. When a real witch or warlock is caught, they at least have the means to escape.

Merlin tries fighting it. He tries saving everyone, but just like how it was at the time of the Black Death, this is far bigger than him.

In the first few years of the rapidly increasing witch hunts he uses his magic to save innocent captives, but he is quickly found out and thus has to flee. He soon realizes though that from _this _there is no escape– the mad fear of sorcery has spread out to every country of Europe. It is everything Uther has ever wanted and more. Merlin sheds angry tears at nights and grits his teeth together at days, feeling ridiculously helpless for someone with so much power. There's hardly any magic left in the world and even so, those fools at the Christian church try to erase it completely.

It's the nearing the end of 1610 when the tragedy that finally breaks Merlin apart happens. He lives in the Kingdom of France with a young widow named Lorraine who took him in and her ten-year-old son, Éloy. The boy catches a grave disease during the course of the winter and if Merlin wasn't curing him in secret with his magic he would surely die.

After that, it's the story of Gwen and her miraculously healed father all over again: the boy and his mother are taken away, interrogated thoroughly, found guilty and sentenced to death, all in two days' time. Merlin can't let that happen (he loves Lorraine deeply, probably because the woman has such a kind heart that often reminds him of Gwen) and so he sneaks into the cells to spring them at night, only to have five burly, well-armed guards rush after them in a second. Lorraine is crying heavily while she squeezes her son's hand and urges him to run faster, try his best because it's their lives that are at stake now… but the worn-out boy trips when they turn around a corner and falls hard onto the cold ground, dropping behind in the passage way.

"Éloy!" Lorraine cries in an instant, turning and running back towards the boy. "Éloy, sweetheart, you have to get up, you have to… NO!"

The guards appear behind the couching boy and corner him, raising their swords up while doing so. Merlin lunches forward and clutches at the screaming mother to stop her from running back.

"NO! NO, LEAVE HIM ALONE!" She screams, squirming desperately in Merlin's arms. "He's my boy, he's done nothing wrong, please leave him alone, plea…NO, DON'T, NOOO!"

Merlin's eyes turn angry gold as he concentrates on pushing three guards away and putting up a magical barrier around the boy against the two others, but when Lorraine accidentally elbows him in the stomach while trying to get out of the tight grip Merlin slips and gasps for air, and for a second his magic fades – leaving just enough time for one of the guards to carry out the fatal strike. The sword flashes and two voices scream into the air in union, leaving the warlock nearly deaf but he doesn't care; he just stands there, transfixed by horror and stares at the ever growing scarlet pond that's gathering beneath the boy's motionless body…

"NO, NO, ÉLOY! ÉLOY!" Lorraine cries, hot tears streaming down on her face. "Merlin, let me go, I have to go back to him, let me…!"

But the guards are now standing up and marching swiftly in their direction, and their expression is enough to snap Merlin out of the shocked petrify. He clutches the crying woman to himself and blasts the stone wall out to create a gate where they can escape. Lorraine shouts and screams but Merlin doesn't let her go even when she starts clawing at his arms so much that his skin breaks, even when she starts hitting him with all she's got.

"_Lorraine._ He wouldn't want you captured, either," he forces out of his gritted teeth while trying to drag to woman to safety. Sadly, this proves to be only adding fuel to the fire.

"_What do you know?!"_ Lorraine hisses with broken voice. "Sorcerer! You had my boy killed, you heartless monster!" And the flood of tears start falling again. "To think that I let you into my home… You had him killed! You had him _killed!"_

Hearing those grief-sickened words spitted so hatefully at him breaks Merlin heart, but he doesn't say anything for he knows there's nothing that could make the situation reverse itself. As there is no reason now to hold back his magic, Merlin uses his powers to get Lorraine to out of the town, away from their pursuers. He leaves her in the side of the forest which surrounds a smaller village and disappears without a word, not leaving a trace of himself behind.

A couple of days later he visits the village under the disguise of an aged man, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mourning mother. However, he hears the villagers talk about a stranger that was found hanging from a tree in the woods two days ago. Merlin's body freezes and he can't help asking about that stranger. "A crazy looking wrench of a blonde woman" is the only answer he gets.

Merlin staggers to the side of the road and throws up. He vaguely feels a soft, concerned hand smoothing light circles onto his back, "Are you alright, old man?" while another distinctively male voice urges: "Get away from the beggar, Louie! Who knows what disease you'll catch from him."

Merlin leaves France and goes back to his homeland. Once he's there, he joins the Virginia Company and sets out to sail to the New World in one of the company's ships, leaving the whole bloody continent behind.

He only hopes he can forget.

* * *

Merlin spends the rest of the century in North American colonies, mostly Virginia and later, North Carolina. After his return to the British motherland in 1713, the warlock stays in Wales for a while and makes a living from teaching scholars. He heeds Aithusa's words and does not cut himself off of human contacts (or at the least, he tries not to), which leads to the start of a tentative (and closely guarded) relationship with a fellow tutor named Aeron. Witch trials are fading out across most of Europe by now, a fact for which Merlin is eternally grateful. This is the first time since Aithusa's death that he can lead a generally quiet and peaceful life – which he dedicates to the delights of learning and sharing knowledge. He digs up everything he can find on the Arthurian legend and dwells long upon the now strangely twisted but still so very familiar stories, feeling a secret joy and a pained heartache behind his ribs all at the same time while these new scripts and paintings merge with the distant images of his memories. He's not depressed, though, not anymore. Whenever distress and grief come close to overfilling his heart, Merlin touches the smooth pendant that still hangs around his neck, thinks about his loved ones, about the promise of the future, and the warmth of the scale dispels every bad thought away.

When Merlin resumes travelling, he starts off in the Kingdom of Portugal before moving onto eastern direction: the Spanish Monarchy, Savoy, the Swiss Confederation, Bavaria… By the end of the century and the beginning of the next, he spends most of his time in Vienna, learning a great deal about classical music and deciding that it is quite a bit like magic after all. (How come he has never displayed any real interest in it before is truly beyond him.) While the majority of Europe is preoccupied with fighting back Napoléon Bonaparte, Merlin admires great musicians and composers like Haydn, Boccherini, Cimarosa, Mozart, Salieri and Beethoven. He throws himself into enthusiastic learning about various musical instruments and a few decades later Merlin can play the clarinet, the violin, the cello, the harpsichord and the fortepiano quite confidently. (Furthermore, he struggles with mastering the art of the harp, too, because the sound of its strings absolutely _mesmerises_ him.)

Merlin moves into Bohemia next year and applies to Charles-Ferdinand University of Prague, which he enjoys immensely since he never really bothered with schools before. (Well, there was this one time at Oxford after Aithusa's death, but things just didn't work out for Merlin back then and he dropped out after a year or two.) Decades later, when he resides in the Russian Empire he repeats the experience at Saint Petersburg Imperial University.

Life's changing drastically, and fortunately, for the better. New technologies are being developed, mankind is getting wiser and Merlin feels the need to keep up with expanding his knowledge about everything. He reads a lot nowadays, much more than he did before though he's always loved books; his friend Yegor even comments on that Merlin can rarely be seen without having his nose deep in a book. He reads Pushkin, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky and Gogol while walking down the snowy streets of Moscow, and when he goes back to his house he reads Tennyson, Austen, Balzac and Twain. When an acquaintance discovers his extreme knowledge of languages and asks him to translate books from Victor Hugo and Charles Dickens to Russian, Merlin gladly complies and promptly discovers that he _loves_ doing this. He continues translating novels through the decades (under various pseudonyms so that no one will pick up on the strange guy who speaks nearly every significant language of the world quite competently) even as he continues moving on.

At some point, he sails to Australia to discover the only continent he's never stepped foot into (well, excluding Antarctica for obvious reasons) and spends roughly twenty years there. Odd as it is, time feels like it's moving quicker these days as the world grows and develops more rapidly than ever before. In the old days, Merlin could spend half a century in a country without many changes occurring but this is definitely not the case anymore. Sometimes he thinks that men are capable of nearly _everything_ he can do with his magic – that technology is to replace spells make life easier. Electrification, steam and diesel engines, railways, telephones… inventions that a thousand years ago were not present even in the wildest of dreams. When news of the Wright brothers' first successful flight reaches Merlin, the burden of his terribly long age suddenly weighs on his shoulders stronger than ever before.

Then the year 1914 comes, and Merlin learns what living in hell must be like.

* * *

Even though he thought that the Black Death and the medieval witch hunts were terrible, Merlin has to realize that those were practically _nothing_ compared to the World War which affects every country in some way or another – some much more than the rest. All of his life Merlin did his best escaping wars, never staying long in countries where fights and revolutions erupted but now he can't do this because it's too big this time… and far too close to home.

He's not suited to be a soldier, not exactly, but somehow he still finds himself in the middle of the world-changing conferences of the Triple Entente, acting as the best English-French-Russian interpreter for high officers. He tells himself that he serves for the good of his birthplace, but it's not enough by far to dissolve the heavy feelings that stir nervously inside his chest every time the United Kingdom declares war against another country. In fact, he feels sick every time he learns about a new battle. After spending such a long time travelling around the world and getting to know every country and culture, experiencing the Great War is like having all of his children fight each other mercilessly, _to death_. He can't sleep at night without having nightmares about tanks, battleships and gas masks.

Five years of absolute terror does Merlin in. He's not on the battlefield, not really, and he can't even begin to imagine how those soldiers who're out there must feel. It's bad enough to know how _civil citizens_ feel. His magic is nearly uncontrollable these days, always trying to reach out and stop the horrible happenings around him and Merlin in turn can't do much beyond trying to hold it back fiercely, for nothing good would come out if thunders would start crashing and Merlin's magic would make all military vehicles and weapons disappear. (Frankly, it did that once. Merlin had to change appearance and name to avoid getting caught.) When he's not in the office he's out strolling about with food and necessary supplies for the wretched homeless, poor and frightened.

And the worst is that he can't hold back the questions that re-appear in his head from time to time, again and again, no matter how hard he tries willing them away: _Where is Arthur? When will he arise if not NOW, when his country clearly needs him badly?_

But if Merlin is convinced that there's _nothing_ which could be worse than this, he gets a painful slap to his face from Fate: his rapid heartbeat is just calming down after the terrors of the World War when the Second erupts.

He doesn't let himself getting caught in the malicious web of the political spiders this time. He takes part in defending the habitants of the country to the best of his abilities… which in the present case means that he – under his newest alias "Wayne Williams" – joins the London Auxiliary Fire Service as soon as it's mobilized and completes the fireman training in a surprisingly short amount of time with exceeding achievements. He works through the forty-eight-hour shifts without a grudging word, no matter how many fires he has to fight a day with his comrades; he's always the first one that helps those who get stuck in the burning buildings, who doesn't hesitate to use a bit of more-or-less discreet magic when the situation demands so; he's the guy who when ensured twenty-four hours to regenerate does not go back to his house but instead works in a factory for at least half of his off-duty time to help producing various war goods. Merlin has had enough of being helpless. He does everything within his power to be to the aid of those are in need.

… And God help, there is hundreds and _thousands_ in need, especially after the London Blitz begins. Enemy bombers are everywhere, and Merlin can hear nothing apart from the constant noise of sirens, bombs exploding, buildings crashing and people screaming in panic-stricken terror. _"The whole bloody world's on fire!",_ comes the message to the alarm office. Merlin agrees that it sure as hell looks like it.

Merlin gains only one thing during the Second World War for which he's grateful; only one thing that makes him see the light in the thick, heavy darkness, that makes him feel warmth where he has thought there was nothing but freezing cold… A little girl named Bonnie.

They're battling the conflagration caused by the latest raid while Merlin lets his magic subtly check the houses for any signs of life, and his fingers twitch around the hard water pipe when he realizes that yes, there _is_ someone in the building right in front of them.

"There's someone inside, I saw movement!", he yells through the heavy noise.

The Station Manager brushes the sweat from his brows and winks his eyes before turning his head to Merlin. "Damn if I can see a thing from those blasted flames! Are you sure you've got it right?"

"Positive, sir. Let me go inside!"

The burly man glares at him so hard as if he's sizing Merlin up, but then he evidently remembers all the time Merlin could get people out of the way of the fire to safety because he nods sharply and inclines his head to the house. "Cooper, Jones," he barks loudly, "you go with Williams. Morgan, Walker, Davies, get here and take over the pipe! Hurry, for god's sake!"

Merlin rushes to the house and swiftly makes his way to the stairs that leads the way to the second floor, mildly aware that Cooper and Jones are trailing cautiously behind him. He's not afraid, and let's admit, why would he be? He's _magic_ – but in the ideal case he can _use_ it, so he's trying to get his mates out of the way. "I'm not sure how many are still stuck here," he says. "We should separate and search the first two floors as well. The fire's coming from the roof; there should be still some time before it collapses down."

"I don't think we ought to part," Jones says hesitantly but Cooper's already shaking his head.

"No, Williams is right. If we separate we can cover the floors quicker. Go on, guys."

Merlin doesn't look back when he runs up to the top floor. Once there, he quickly mutters a protection spell around himself and looks around, searching frantically for the small sign of life he'd felt earlier. The ceiling is rumbling dangerously above him, threating to fall down in any minute, and the heat of the burning orange flames are so strong that Merlin thinks his face might flare up.

And then he spots her, finally, as she tries to wriggle out of an enormous mass of debris dangerously close the ruins of what once must have been the kitchen furniture. Merlin races to her and starts clearing the shatters away hurriedly, trying not to harm the whimpering child in the process any more then how she's already injured. Great, shining pearls are already rolling down from her big, brown eyes, leaving long streams of wetness on her puffy, red cheeks.

"Don't worry, I'll get you out," Merlin says as he lifts a big stone from the girl's right leg and throws it out of the way. "How does your leg feel?"

"Hurts," the child answers with a breathless sob that ends up turning into a heavy cough. "Please help Mum and Carl, too! They're still in the bedroom!"

Merlin follows the child's eyes and looks back at the crumbling room that is now fully consumed by the madly licking flames. He gulps down the acrid taste in his mouth before turning back to the young girl. "I'll see what I can do. Now try standing up, love, will you? Here, grab my hand." He helps up the child but she lets out a pained moan and a rough cough, so Merlin quickly lifts her up into his arms. He feels stupid for underestimating her injury. "Ssh, it's okay, it's okay! I've got you."

The girl buries her head into Merlin's shoulders and clutches at him, rough ebony tufts flying everywhere on his chest as her whole body shakes with weeping. Merlin draws smoothing circles onto her back with his thumb, trying to hush her. "I'll get you out, I promise. Just close your eyes and hold onto me, okay?" The girl nods, and curls her tiny fingers into Merlin's coat. "Tell me your name?"

He can barely catch her whisper. "Bonnie."

"Bonnie," Merlin repeats softly. He keeps on talking as a way of averting the child's attention while his magic gently curls around the small body to protect her from the smoke and the fire. He starts making his way to the staircase, shoving flames and debris away with a swish of his hand, and he's grateful that Bonnie is too afraid to look up and catch sight of it. "You've got a real nice name here, my lady. And may I ask about your age?"

"I'm seven." Another cracked sob. "My birthday's on the day after tomorrow. Mum was going to bake me a chocolate cake, and I– I was…" And the tears start flowing again. "I was fi-fighting with her because I wanted strawberry…"

Merlin bites on his lip. He doesn't have a reply to that so he remains silent, but a quick peck still finds its way onto the top of the girl's smoke-smelling hair.

They're crossing the remains of the hall when they hear the urging shout of Jones from below. "Williams! You're still up there?"

"Yes!" Merlin shouts back before jumping to the right, avoiding contact with a particularly nasty piece of burning curtain only by mere inches. "I've found a child!"

"Then for the love of God, hurry up and let's get out of here before the whole bloody place crashes over us!"

As if it was is actually listening to them, the house starts rumbling and shaking viciously so much that an earthquake couldn't do it any better, and Bonnie lets out a frightened little scream when parts of the ceiling abruptly starts falling down, one after another, like it was raining. Merlin quickens his steps and races to the staircase, dancing around the crumbling shatters and the glowing, angry red flames that all seem determined to not let them through unscathed. He doesn't really care about caution by now – not when there's someone he has to get to the outside safe and sound. He suspects his eyes must be glowing gold constantly as he uses everything he's got to keep both of them safe, and observing the dumbfounded expression Merlin spots on Bonnie's face a second later as he blinks down at her, he knows for fact that it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Mister, your eyes…"

Merlin worries his lower lip for a moment before bringing himself to not chicken away from glancing at the girl. "Nah, not mister. Call me Merlin."

Bonnie stares at Merlin with her brown eyes widened from wonder; the orange lights of the fire can be seen perfectly as they reflect on the blown pupils. "_Merlin?_ Like the wizard?"

That brings a small, tight smile onto the warlock's face.

Minutes later, they finally catch up to Jones and Cooper on the middle of the stairs, halfway to the first floor. Both men seem rather out of breath: with his coat ripped and smudged to a nearly black colour, Jones looks like as he's just stirred and battled an entire sleuth of angry grizzly bears while Cooper has dark smear of ash on his forehead and dusty, grey powder on his bushy moustache, which makes him look positively older than the thirty-six years he can actually claim.

"Three in the second floor rooms," Cooper stated neutrally, keeping his voice as calm and steady as he can manage while they run down the stairs. "Jones found one more at the first. Top floor?"

"Presumably two," Merlin answers just as tonelessly. He knows it perfectly well that there aren't any survivors; he'd felt only one sign of life before, and that was Bonnie.

His arms tighten around the child when he feels her fingers twitch hard on his coat, and as he looks down, he sees that the girl looks at him with trembling lips and renewed tears in her eyes.

"Maybe this should wait until we're outside," he says quietly to his mates.

Right in that moment the house quakes so strongly that if Jones wasn't quick on his instinct and steadying him, Merlin would perform an utterly pathetic display of tripping in his own two feet and – God help – drop Bonnie.

"Good idea," Jones says then, taking a step back from Merlin. "Let's streak off."

Ten minutes later they're already out in the yard, Cooper and Jones resuming their posts at the fire extinguisher. Bonnie burst in tears when the Station Manager attempted to separate her from Merlin so the warlock now sits on a bench with the girl, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. She has more or less calmed down; her feet shouldn't hurt now (not when Merlin's magic is flowing subtly into her body, gently easing the pain, healing the major injuries and charming away the remains of smoke from her lungs), yet she sobs quietly into Merlin's coat where she's leaning into him from under the blanket she got, her soft, tiny hands clamping his tightly. Merlin stares at the remains of the house absent-mindedly as the red-orange lights finally subside at last, giving place to the thick, heavy smoke that Merlin watches snaking its way up onto the dark, gloaming sky.

Bonnie's sudden whispering is so quiet that for a moment Merlin thinks he's just hearing things. "Mum and Carl are in Heaven now, aren't they?"

Merlin glances down at the girl but only sees her dark mop of hair as she glazes firmly at the ground. He looks back at the building then, at the coiling threads of smoke, and takes a deep breath. "Yeah." And then to divert her attention somehow, even for a bit, he asks: "Was Carl your brother?"

"Uh-uh," Bonnie hums quietly. "He's just turned four last month. He was always pulling my hair, I hated it." She lifts her face up, and Merlin can see her wet lashes as she blinks slowly. "What happens to me now?"

Merlin sucks in his lower lip, and he doesn't even notice when his hand comes to rest on the top of Bonnie's head. "I don't know. Where's your father?"

"Papa had to go away. I haven't seen him in a long time."

_Must have been recruited_, Merlin thinks. However, with this, things aren't looking exactly bright for Bonnie. If her father is out of the picture and Bonnie proves to be without any available relative she could go to, she'll probably be evacuated to one of those education camps – which in itself would be great since those rural camps are all designed to keep children safe from city bombings… But she'd be on her own there, and when she can come back to London after the war, surely she'll just get shoved into an orphanage.

The thought causes more distress to Merlin than it probably should.

"It doesn't hurt now at all, thank you," Bonnie says after a while, abruptly pulling Merlin out of his thoughts. He looks down at the girl who wiggles her bare feet a few times, testing carefully before reaching down and giving a wipe to the smudges of dried blood on her ankle. "You should leave the cuts and bruises to the doctor."

Merlin is caught so off-guard that he lets out a loud gasp (which he then quickly tries to disguise as cough but ends up sounding more like he's choking on his own saliva) and nearly fells down from the bench they're sitting on. "What…! I'm not…"

"You're a wizard, aren't you?" Bonnie continues, completely oblivious to Merlin's shock. "Isn't that why you told me to call you 'Merlin'?"

"I don't–"

"Oh, is it a secret? Don't worry, I can keep secrets." She clutches at Merlin's collar and pulls him down so they're almost eye-to-eye when she whispers, "Papa is Jewish… that's why he had to leave us. Mum said I can never tell it anyone." Suddenly, she furrows her brows. "Well, I'm telling you now but that's only because I know a secret of yours. And you don't look like a bad guy. You're not a bad guy, are you?"

"No," Merlin rasps with his heart hammering in his chest. "I'm not a bad guy. For the record, I'm an awfully nice guy."

That earns him the first small smile from the child. "Yes, I thought so. You know, you're not the first wizard I see. When I was five, Mum and Papa brought me to a festival where a man charmed me a flower. Right from the air! He wasn't doing that in secret, though. Oh, but I also never told anyone how Carl once peed on the armchair in the living room while I was looking after him, so you see, I'm a really good secret keeper!"

And Merlin can't help laughing at that, even though he knows that he should make fun of the girl, saying things like "Oh, come on! _Magic?_ You can't be saying this for real" and "I was kidding you with the name, and if you think you saw my eyes glowing back there in the house, it was just the trick of the light". But Bonnie looks so lovely, with her brown eyes twinkling even though they're still rimmed red from crying that Merlin cannot bring himself to lie. He reaches forward and ruffles the black mop of hair.

"Wayne Williams!"

Merlin snaps his head up in time to see a large van wheel onto the yard and stop just a few meters shy of the fire engine. The Station Manager is already waving at Merlin pressingly. "Williams, bring the girl here!"

"Yes, sir!" Merlin shouts back, and then he stands up and turns to the girl. "Come on, Bonnie. They're taking you to the hospital."

"It doesn't look like an ambulance," Bonnie says while Merlin yet again takes her up into his arms and starts walking to direction of the van.

"No, well… The country doesn't have enough ambulances by far nowadays, so vans like this are commandeered and pressed into service. They'll take care of you, don't worry."

"Mmm." She fidgets, and trifles with the buttons on Merlin's coat. "Is Wayne your real name, then? Will you come and visit me if I have to stay in the hospital?"

Merlin opens his mouth to answer but he doesn't have the chance in the end because they reach the vehicle where a bearded, forty-or-so blond man is already watching Bonnie intently from behind his folder of papers. "Are you Bonnie Bennett?" The child hugs herself closer to Merlin's chest but nods.

The man gives a reassuring smile at her and opens his arms, a movement which Merlin translates as a cue to hand Bonnie over. "Nice to meet you. I'm Alan Hughes, and now I'm taking you to a physician, all right?"

Bonnie blinks up at Merlin with an alarmed expression in her eyes, but when Merlin pets her hair and mouths "don't worry" to her, she releases the warlock's coat from her grip and lets herself be handed to Hughes who then carefully places her inside the van. A moaning middle-aged man and a terribly pale teenager girl in bloody clothes are already lying inside.

Merlin doesn't pay attention to the small talk the Station Manager and Hughes make about the current terrible situation of London and, in general, Britain – instead, he fixes his eyes on Bonnie and tries to convey the messages "everything will be alright" and "I'm definitely coming to visit you" purely by the use of body language. It seems to be working, though, if the shy but pleased smile Bonnie rewards him with is any indication.

He waves a hand at her before Hughes closes the door of the van, and then stares after the vehicle for as long as it disappears from his sight.

The sudden clasp on his shoulder comes so out of the blue that Merlin jerks visibly.

"Whoa, mate, easy there," his distracter says with a small, knowing smile, and Merlin relaxes.

"Damn you, Cooper, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry. So, is she the cause of the long face?"

Merlin bites on his lip. Really, he should have stopped wearing his emotions so obviously on his sleeves _centuries ago._ "Dale…", he starts, and it's almost comical how quickly the expression changes on Cooper's face. There's an unsaid agreement between the two of them never to address each other by first names while being in service. An agreement Merlin's just thrown out of the window. "Could you dig up anything you can find on her family for me? Any living relatives, someone who could take her in?"

"It's so… _you_," the man sighs, shaking his head. "Why do you even bother?"

Merlin shrugs. He doesn't really know. But he's always been like this. He thinks about the baby boy he rescued from another burning house a month ago and for whom he managed to find foster parents in three days' time. He thinks about how he won't grow up in an orphanage (given that his new parents won't meet their end during the war), and how he wants the same to apply to Bonnie.

So he only says, "Please, Dale?", to which the man shakes his head again – but this time, in acceptance.

"Fine. I'll have my connections dig the details up. But know that you owe me for this, Wayne. _Again."_

"Yes, yes, of course," Merlin says, grinning now. "Maybe I could make some amends… later, when we're off-duty?"

Cooper returns the grin. "Yeah, you probably could."

Merlin genuinely likes the guy. He's fit, fun to be with and trustworthy with a good sense of humour which is much appreciated during these dark times. His heart is made of gold, too, but Merlin doesn't really care about that because he's not interested in Cooper's heart, not really. They have a mutual attraction (the fact that Merlin's not using any glamour for now certainly helps with that) and they decided to act on in. Neither of them wants to have something real; in fact, Cooper wants to ask for the hand of his neighbour's daughter after the war ends – a plan he's shared with Merlin on multiple times. They can relieve their stress with some secret late-night fumbling though until that time comes, and it's more than fine by both of them.

And so, Merlin happily gives Cooper the date for when they can meet up in private.

* * *

Cooper's connections are _fast_. By the next day, all the wanted papers are already in Merlin's possession.

As it turns out, Bonnie Bennett is the first child and only daughter of Alice (née Jones) and Roger Bennett, sister of Carl Bennett. The death certificate of Alice and Carl arrives quite soon, and that's when Merlin discovers that terrible fact that no, Roger did _not_ simply go away to protect his family – he was flitted away five months ago and then killed with a group of other Jewish people, including his own parents. As for the other set of grandparents, Merlin sees red when he hears that although the maternal grandparents were informed of the tragedy right away, they refuse to take care of the funerals _and_ Bonnie. Apparently, they vehemently unapproved their daughter's marriage to Roger and now don't want to have anything to do with what happened. It's as if they would like to erase even the fact that Alice was of their own blood, and that's such a sickening thought that Merlin quite nearly throws up in a bin.

"You can't do anything about that," Cooper says later that afternoon. "People are frightened. These guys? They probably just want to avoid ending up like that Roger bloke's parents. You can understand that."

"They are _family_. I will never understand how they can refuse helping someone from their own family. _A child!"_

Cooper shrugs his shoulders. There's a deep, tell-tale furrow on his forehead which proves that he's not exactly happy with the current situation either, but he does better than Merlin accepting it. "What do you want me to say, Wayne? I know it's not right, but there's so much an auxiliary fire-fighter can do. Either you go and adopt the girl yourself, or face reality and hope that she'll do alright growing up in the orphanage."

"You can't possibly know what–," Merlin snaps but then the words suddenly sink in, leaving him gaping. "Hold on. What did you just say?"

"I said… Oh, no." Cooper points a sharp, piercing look at Merlin and just stares and stares. A few minutes later, he pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. "Blimey. I've just given you an idea, haven't I?"

Merlin grins.

* * *

Merlin is excited, frightened and has quite possibly gone mad from thinking about what he's about to do. What he's about to_ propose_ and – depending on the answer – _might_ do, to be precise. Still, it's a highly mind-numbing idea that leaves Merlin high on adrenaline and his heart hammering crazy behind his ribs.

Part of him thinks that it's utter bollocks, but he knows he could never leave it at that without always feeling regret from now on for letting this charming little girl into an institution where hundreds of traumatic war orphans are packed together in tight little rooms with no one who'd love them for real.

Merlin thinks he could do that. Probably. Just look at how he already feels connected to the child, even though they've hardly spend more than an hour together. And he's a goddamn immortal, for crying out loud! In thirteen years, Bonnie will be able to stand on her own legs and won't need Merlin anymore, and that's not even a relatively long time for him.

Reason says that Merlin's just high from the life-saving experience. Reason also says that Merlin's just happy there's someone out there who knows… has certain suspicions… about his secret, so all things considered, taking Bonnie in is not a very wise decision to make in the spur of a moment.

But then Intuition decides that it has had enough of this crap and punches Reason hard in the face – laughing while doing so.

… That's how Merlin ends up standing at the door of Bonnie's (and a whole lot of four other, currently sleeping children's, but that's beside the point) hospital room with an awkward smile on his face and a strawberry flavoured fairy cake in his hand.

"My real name _is_ Merlin, not Wayne," he says as soon as he gets to the girl, even though that's not what he planned on saying the first place. Bonnie clearly doesn't understand Merlin's odd way of greeting her (which isn't a greeting at all, now that he thinks about it); she looks up at him with her brows knitted, questions piling up behind the warm chocolate-coloured eyes like buzzing honeybees. "I, too, have lost my family, and although it was a long time ago I'm still not over it – and frankly, I think the feeling will never go away completely, but it's fine because remembering them is _part of me_. I know what it is like to be alone, but I also know what it is like to be with someone who cares for you… and I'd prefer if you only came to know the latter of those."

Merlin is aware that he's rambling, throwing his carefully prepared speech right into the bin in the process, but for once he doesn't mind it. He may give off the appearance of a crazy child molester – and really, he shouldn't be surprised if Bonnie was scared shitless of him – but he doesn't think that's the case. He can see it in the way her eyes soften, how the tiny little sparks of hope flash across her pupils, and Merlin has lived long enough to know when to follow his instincts. His magic is already reaching out, and upon finding the girl, it touches her hair and curls protectively around her hands. This cannot be a coincidence.

"If you want it, Bonnie, if you trust me… then I'd be happy to take you in," he finishes clumsily.

"I could… I could live with you?" Bonnie's round eyes are like shining plates as she breathes the questions like she can't believe she's offered this chance. Her rosy little lips tremble a bit, and warmth creeps up Merlin's spine at the hopeful look she gives him. The feeling highly resembles what Aithusa's scale always pours into him, and from that he knows that he's made the right decision. "We could live together? Really?"

"Yes," Merlin answers, smiling. "If you want to, that is."

"I want to," Bonnie says immediately, brown eyes filling up with relieved, grateful tears. "I really-really want to. I– I want to live with you, Merlin." Her voice hitches, and she lets out an angry groan when tears start falling down her cheeks seemingly on their own accord. "So-sorry, I don't know why I'm crying… I'm happy, I really am, I ju– I just–"

"Ssh, it's alright. It's settled, then: I'm taking you home." Merlin sits down beside the sobbing child and strokes her head soothingly before putting the fairy cake onto her lap.

Bonnie wipes her eyes and gawks down at the small, pink cake with a stunned moan and a look that one would reward nothing less with but a new-born phoenix nestling at the very least.

"Happy birthday, Bonnie," Merlin says with a quiet smile, to which the child resumes weeping.

* * *

Merlin sells what he can (which is not a difficult act as he's used to moving, after all; he never has many properties) and buys a raunchy little house in a small village of Marlow Urban District, Buckinghamshire. As soon as Bonnie's released from the hospital (two and a half days after she's first brought in by a surly doctor who comments on how her injuries were not so bad after all, unlike as it was reported) Merlin takes her to his flat where they stay for as long as Alice and Carl's funerals are properly held. Bonnie doesn't cry during the short ceremony, but she kisses the headstones once before walking back to Merlin and sliding her warm little hand into his.

When they go back to Merlin's later that afternoon for the very last time, Merlin sits down with Bonnie for The Conversation.

"So, you said you're a really good secret keeper?" he asks, to which Bonnie replies with the widest grin he'd seen in her face for days.

"The best!"

"That's good. Great, actually, because we'll be need to keep some secrets. A whole lot of that, in fact."

"Like your magic?"

Merlin smiles. "Like that, yes. Can you think of what would happen if people would realize that I have magic?"

Bonnie sucks in her lower lip and looks down pensively, fingers twitching as she scratches her lower arm absently. "They would want you to do magic for them. They would make you do things."

"They would _try_," Merlin punctuates. "It is _my_ decision whether I do magic or not, and trust me, I wouldn't let anyone use me or my power if I doesn't consent to it. But now that you're here with me, I'm responsible for you as well. Bad people could use you to make me 'do things', as you've said, and I don't want that to happen." He looks into the girl's eyes and holds her gaze firmly for a long time. "I don't want to get you in trouble, Bonnie. I took you to live with me because I want to protect you, but I can only do that for as long as no one knows about me. Can you help me with that?"

The child nods so fiercely that her neck gives out a small crack. "I promise I won't tell anyone! I pinkie-swear! I want to stay with you, Merlin. You can trust me!"

The way she says it is so heated that Merlin can't help reaching forward and ruffling the dark ebony tufts with a smile. "Thank you. That brings us to the other thing we need to discuss." He licks his lips briefly and looks away for a moment, a deep, aching pang suddenly stabbing sharply into his chest. "I've already told you that I've long lost my own family. I still remember them, but I doubt anyone else does so I abandoned my name and tried to restart things under a new name, a new life. Hence the 'Wayne Williamson' scheme."

"Do I need to restart things, too?" Bonnie asks with a long blink, looking up at Merlin's face questioningly. "Should I call myself Bonnie Williamson from now on? Or will you give me a completely new name? Papa used to say that they almost named me Margaret…"

"Gods, no!" Merlin says laughing. "I don't want to change your name. That's exactly what I was trying to get to: I want you to never forget who you are and where you come from. Your parents named you Bonnie, and this name is something that holds their love while your family name holds their memories. No, I'd very much like you to keep all of it. I was only wondering about–"

"Then why did you…?"

"–whether you'd find it a terrible idea to share it with me," Merlin finishes with a somewhat plastered smile.

Bonnie closes her mouth, blinks, and that opens it again. "You want to share my name? My family name?"

"Only if you don't mind. I reckon it would be the best if I could somehow take care of you legally, and the best solution to that would be if we'd manage to sell people that we're family. I could adopt you, I suppose, but frankly, I never was the daddy type... and I don't want to take your parent's place. Also, you'd have to take my name which is rubbish because Williams is not even my real name. No, I want you to stay the way you are now, and for that I figured it would be the best if I took your surname. I… I could be your brother. On paper, I mean." Oh gods, and Merlin's now blushing furiously because even though it has sounded perfectly logical and absolutely great in his head, saying all of that out loud is just… embarrassing.

Bonnie evidently shares this thought because the next moment, she laughs out. "So you'd be Merlin Bennett? That sounds silly!"

"Yes, well." Merlin desperately wills the heat away from his face. "I need a new first name, too. While not so long ago Merlin was a really popular name, now it's quickly going out of fashion."

"Oh." And at that, Bonnie actually _smirks._ (Merlin's brows rise up on his forehead, because really – how can a seven-year-old child even do that?) "And only the most fashionable name does it for you," she says, teasing.

"But of course!" Merlin chuckles and he's glad to see the pink flushes of mirth on Bonnie's cheeks. She was awfully pale before and during the funeral, but now colour is finally finding its way back onto her face. "But, really. Using my true first name is not easy for me, given the way I am."

And it's not an exaggeration. He's been using aliases since his time in America, and it's fine because pretending to be someone else makes it easier to put his past behind. General knowledge of the Arthurian legend is quite big, and Merlin really doesn't need any more senseless jokes about his name and his "namesake", thank you. At first he'd thought that it would be strange and weird, listening to people call him by another name than his real one but he got used to it in a surprisingly short amount of time.

He meant what he said to Bonnie. She shouldn't forget who she is, and the same goes for Merlin as well. But _his_ name holds all that history and that is something Merlin treasures in secret, in the private chambers of his heart. He can't tell Bonnie about that, but he hopes she'll understand.

And maybe she already does. The way she looks up at him is not teasing anymore; there's just warmth, trust and fondness in the mirrors of her eyes. "So what name will you go by?"

"I don't know yet," Merlin answers with a shrug of his shoulders. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Hmm." Bonnie sucks in the tip of her thumb as she thinks, her brows knit in concentration, and Merlin can see the exact moment she comes up with something by the way her whole face lights up like a Christmas tree. "I know! You should be Russell! I used to know a Russell who had big ears just like you. And he was a kind boy."

"Let's see, kind with big ears… Okay, bought."

Bonnie laughs at that and Merlin finds himself joining in.

"Oh, but aren't you a bit old to be my brother?" The girl asks suddenly. "You're probably around the age of Papa."

"Ew, thanks no," Merlin says, sticking his tongue out. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the trick he's used so many times, but now he tries to will it to work conversely. For a moment nothing happens, but then he feels his magic stirring up and then it flows into every part of his body, filling and rejuvenating all of it. When he next opens his eyes, he can read his success clearly on Bonnie's awed expression. "I think I'm really only old enough to be your brother."

"Wow," she breathes. "You… Wow. How did you do that?"

"Not telling," Merlin sing-songs before standing up and walking to the large mirror on the wall to inspect himself. Facing his reflection, he feels a strange sting upon seeing the same lanky boy with the gaunt face and woeful bow-cut hair who first stepped foot into Camelot. "Gods, I've never noticed how much I've filled out. I look ridiculously skinny at eighteen!"

At some point Bonnie stood up and walked to Merlin, and now she's standing next to him. The flabbergasted expression finally left her face, and now she blinks up at the warlock with joy dancing vividly in her eyes. "I think you're cute. Actually, this way you just resemble my Russell all the more."

"Do I really," he sighs with mock irritation while he continues inspecting his new body. He knew there was a reason as to why he only ever aged himself backwards when he attended schools, and even at those times he never went back to more than his early twenties. "You know, with our dark hair and light skin tone, we really look like relatives."

"Yes, I think so too," Bonnie says with a smile. She reaches up and Merlin takes her hand without a word. "Hey, about your appearance before… Was it… Was it also a magical glamour? How old are you?"

Contentment slips out of Merlin, leaving only a heavy, sore point in his chest. He can't be completely honest with her, not yet. He's not ready and maybe he'll never be. It's hard talking about his age, and even though he knows it's not his fault and he shouldn't feel ashamed, he still does.

"No, that was my real appearance," he says after a while and that at least is not a lie. He _does_ have the body of his twenty-eight-year-old self, after all. And if he keeps the little fact that this has been the case for more than a thousand years to himself, well… there's no hurting in that.

Bonnie nods, and Merlin doesn't want to notice how relieved she looks. "Okay, then. Hello, brother!"

Merlin shares her smile. "Hello, sis."

And thus Russell Bennett is born.

Merlin uses his magic to make sure they have all the official documents ready to prove their relation, and that he – as Russell – is now Bonnie's legal guardian. He meets up with Cooper that evening (not in this new, younger form of course) to explain the situation briefly and hazily. Cooper shakes his head in disbelief for long moments before stating that he's not even surprised for he'd always suspected that Merlin (well, he says "Wayne" but that's beside the point) to be the biggest idiot he's ever met. Merlin cannot really counter to this, so instead he just shrugs lightly and wishes Cooper luck in whatever he'll be up to. They part as friends, and when Merlin goes back to his flat and finds Bonnie already sleeping soundly on his bed, he once again reassures himself that he'd made the right decision.

He spreads a warm blanket on the girl, turns off the lights and then settles himself to sleep on the creaky coach in the living room.

Next midday finds the two of them already halfway to Marlow, rattling along on a train to their new home.

* * *

Getting used to living with someone else is not something Merlin has been worried about. While it's true that he's always preferred living alone (so that he don't have to be worried about lights going out seemingly on their own accord whenever he falls into bed tiredly, his toast heating itself while he takes a shower, the messy nest of his room cleaning itself up or other equally little and trivial displays of practical magic), he's had his share of flatmates. Once, he'd lived with various families back in the early years that had very definite routines and Merlin learnt how to accommodate to them. Whenever he attended a university, he lived in dormitories where he had to share a room with at least two other blokes. And he had flatmates three times since he last came back to Great Britain. (The last one was truly, utterly _unbearable_ and Merlin vowed that never again will he share a house with a bluecoat.)

Of course, Bonnie is completely different from having another person with whom he shares his house. Bonnie is a child who need protection, attention and care – and_ that_ is something Merlin is worried about. He always had a knack with children but it's different when he has responsibility as well. He wants the best for the girl, and he can only hope that he won't mess up raising the child.

Fortunately for him, it turns out that Bonnie fits into Merlin's life easier than he'd have ever thought. She's generally quiet but very cheerful and absolutely lovable. When Merlin takes to tutoring her at their new home, he also discovers that she's exceptionally bright for someone her age. He learns that Alice and Roger couldn't afford to send her to school, but Alice taught her reading and basic calculating at home – so Merlin starts completing her home teaching with the hope that she can go to school when she feels ready. (He considers sending her to one of the educational camps, but Bonnie starts crying when he mentions it, saying that she doesn't want to leave Merlin. Merlin himself is not really keen on the idea, either, because that was one of the very reasons in the first place as to why he took the girl in, so they dismiss the idea altogether.)

They spend a lot of time together, Merlin only being away while he's at Mr Hall's workshop where he works as an assistant for the clockmaker man, during which Bonnie's staying with the kind, elderly neighbourhood woman. Their time in the countryside is relatively quiet, the dreads of the war not reaching as far as here quite as strongly. Merlin follows the news and takes on volunteer works, but otherwise he dedicates himself to Bonnie. She speaks a lot about her parents and little brother, and while it comes in handy because Merlin's ought to know about them, playing a Bennett boy, he's just happy that Bonnie feels comfortable enough talking about her lost family and doesn't close herself off.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about Merlin. He still finds it incredibly hard to talk about his past, so while he lets out snippets about his mother or Gaius, he never states anything in details and generally avoids talking about his family. It doesn't really escape Bonnie's notice.

"Hey, Merlin," she starts one day while tapping on the keys of their new piano, playing out the notes of _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star_ absently. Merlin does not look up from the clock mechanism he's currently assembling but hums to let her know that he's listening. "How come we never celebrate your birthday?"

Merlin's hands still on the mechanism.

"Just because you baked me a cake this year, and you brought me one when we met at my birthday, too, but I don't even know when yours is."

He doesn't know either. He can't remember. It was such a long time ago that he last bothered with his birthday… He vaguely remembers that the last one he commemorated was when he turned one hundred, but as to what day Hunith brought him to life… well, Merlin hasn't the faintest. He doesn't even remember what _year _it was.

He briefly considers telling a false date to the girl, but shakes his head with the same breath. He doesn't want to lie to her. "I don't really remember," he says instead quietly. "I haven't celebrated my birthday in a long time. I haven't felt the need to."

Bonnie leaves the piano and walks to him. The look she regards Merlin with is far more understanding than a child's face should be.

"You should celebrate with me, then," she says dead-seriously. "I'd happily share my day with you."

And with that, the sudden melancholy leaves Merlin without a trace. He smiles, and fondles the girl's shining ebony hair.

Bonnie is really mature, especially considering her age. Merlin was first worried about what to do if she slips and forgets using his alias but that never happens. She always calls him "brother" or "Russ", save for when they are alone together in their home; there she never uses anything but Merlin's real name, like it's a secret between the two of them. She never really talks about magic, either, even though the topic clearly fascinates her. She likes watching Merlin do small charms, though, like heating up her bath or making her doll wave and smile, but she never addresses the matter by herself and she never asks Merlin to do things for her. The only time she mentions it directly is when she asks Merlin one time if she could learn to do magic.

"I'm afraid not," Merlin answers honestly. "For the most part, you have to born with it. You must have at least a spark of magic, and then there's a chance that maybe you could do things with using spells. But I haven't met anyone with magic in a really long time. Seems like it's disappearing from the world."

"Spells? I've never heard you using spells."

"Well. I'm too awesome for that."

"Show-off!"

All in all, after Bonnie enters Merlin's life, living doesn't feel so dull and troublesome anymore like it did before, and if there is one good thing the _Luftwaffe_ brought to him, it's her. He has never really found himself after he'd lost his long-time companion, friend and sibling Aithusa, but now… now Merlin feels like that he's doing well again. Finally.

* * *

When Bonnie joins school – immediately in Year 4 – all of her teachers sing odes to Merlin about how clever and well-educated she is for someone who's up till that point has been home educated. At first she's afraid of leaving home, but soon finds herself rather enjoying school life after she makes some friends. She's still too mature and adult-like compared to other children, who play silly games all the time and don't really understand serious issues like the on-going war, but Bonnie still fits in quite well and Merlin's happy for her.

When the Second World War ends, Merlin asks Bonnie if she'd like to go back to London, to which she firmly says no. Merlin can understand it – they've built up a life here, at this quiet rural village, and neither of them feel the need to go back to the busy capital where everything is in ruins, the habitants just catching their breaths after the terrors of the war. So in the end they stay at Marlow UD, Bonnie goes to secondary school and Merlin buys his very first car, a Ford Model 48. (With which Bonnie instantly falls in love, and she always grins and chirps whenever Merlin takes her to school with it after he completes his driving education.) He's no longer an assistant but a full-time employee at Mr Hall's where he restores and repairs antique and modern clocks quite competently, and in addition he starts translating literature again, sometimes spending long hours in the library until Bonnie comes and points out the time for him.

… Looking back now, Merlin thinks that he should've probably seen trouble coming. Everything was running too smoothly. Something was ought to crack.

* * *

"There's this guy who always makes eyes at me. Could you turn him into a toad for me, please?"

Merlin looks up from where he had been eyeing his ravioli hungrily (honestly, it smells _wonderful_, he has no idea how Bonnie managed to make it so tempting) and raises his eyebrow, unimpressed.

Bonnie bobs her head, long hair falling onto the dining table like a dark curtain. "No? Well, you're right, of course. Toads are cute. What about a rat?"

"Bonnie."

The girl sighs and drops her eyes. "Sorry. He's just really irritating, the way he stalks me like he could do however he pleases. And a pissed sailor would blush at the dirty way he sometimes talks to me!"

Merlin knows Bonnie well, and so he knows that she wouldn't be complaining if the guy in question wasn't really as horrible as she tells it. He guesses he should've been prepared for this: Bonnie has grown up to be quite a beauty after all. At the age of fifteen her slender form has started to fill out at the right places, her hair is so long now that it's brushing her hips, and her face as beautiful as it always was – honestly, she's just shy of being a woman but no longer a child. It was obvious that she'll soon attract the attention of her male peers, but that's something Merlin doesn't want to think too deeply about… especially when those attentions are evidently unwelcome and improper.

"Who are we talking about?" he asks while he forks a big portion of ravioli into his mouth and hums happily at the fantastic taste of it. "Gods, Bonnie, this is _heavenly."_

"Kenneth Brown," she says, dismissing the heartfelt complement altogether. "You know; the guy who sometimes comes to our school to harass the girls under the pretence of helping out the teachers."

"Isn't that the son of Colonel Kenneth Brown who gives crazy amount of donations to the school?" To Bonnie's wry nod, Merlin raises his eyebrows once again. "But he's twenty-one! What in the world does he think he's doing, coming onto a girl six years his junior? Besides, I thought he's out in the army."

Bonnie shrugs. "He was demobilized a few months ago. Even the military couldn't put up with him, apparently."

"Great. A trained punk. Maybe I really should turn him into a rat." That gains him a bright smile from Bonnie. "But jokes aside, you're to tell me the minute he does anything more than ogling and foul-mouthing, okay? One misdoing and he'll be bacteria on a rat's flea sooner than he could say 'abracadabra'."

Bonnie laughs out so hard that she accidentally spills half of her tea onto the table, quickly soaking her napkin with big, brown puddles of steaming liquid.

"Why would he even say that?" She asks, still shaking from laughing. "Saying 'abracadabra' is _your_ resort, Merlin."

"You're deliberately ignoring my point!"

Bonnie continues chuckling all throughout their dinner, and as he eases into the light mood, Merlin finds himself not minding it so much after all.

* * *

Merlin knows it the minute Kenneth Bastard Brown Junior does something _more_.

He's at home making his evening tea when Bonnie's anguished scream cuts into Merlin like someone plunged a dagger into him and sliced his chest open. It disappears in a second but the echo of the sound makes blood drum loudly against his ears as the unmistakable feeling of desperate terror floods his soul, and Merlin knows that something has gone terribly wrong.

He closes his eyes and reaches out for Bonnie to find her location. It's not strange that he experiences the emotional state of her soul: this has happened couple of times before, usually when the girl was having extreme emotions. (Merlin figures that what's responsible for this occurrence is their connection, which is quite similar to what he had with Aithusa, albeit – for the lack of magic on Bonnie's part – not nearly as strong). He's never experienced such fear though, not even through her. When he gets the first glimpses of her state, the flashing images of Bonnie slapped and pressed down onto the mud by three young men makes Merlin's blood boil with fury.

Not even for a millisecond does he hesitate. As soon as he grips the gleaming light of Bonnie's soul – bright and pure, even though it currently flutters fiercely like a frightened little bird –, Merlin lets his power run wild in his veins: he surges for Bonnie and in the next moment he's standing at the village border in the light autumn rain among tall trees, expression darkening rapidly as he takes in the scene that plays out in front of his eyes.

He recognises Brown right away – he has seen of the jerk's arrogant face enough times. Merlin clenches his fists so hard that all his knuckles go white when the bastard looks up from where he's forced his way between Bonnie's legs, kneeling, hands gripping the pale tights of the girl strongly beneath the shattered remains of her skirt. There are two other guys, equally large and well-built to Brown, who're holding Bonnie down by her arms while one of them presses his palm to her mouth, but Merlin doesn't pay more than a fleeting glance to them because as soon as he appears, his eyes zoom in on the girl he couldn't have come to love more if they were really of the same blood.

Bonnie, who trembles all over and whimpers loudly when he sees Merlin. Bonnie, whose face is soaked in tears, whose right cheek is swollen and angry red where she must have received a blow, whose eyes are dim and grey and absolutely _terrified._ Bonnie, who is looking at Merlin with such a broken plea in her eyes that the warlock's fury makes wild thunders crash loudly in the sudden storm.

"What the…!" The brunette one of Brown's mates shouts as he snaps his hand away from Bonnie's face. "That's her bro, isn't he? How the hell did he get here?"

Merlin takes a slow step towards them as Bonnie coughs, spits, and gets on her elbows. "R-Russ…" she chokes out on a rasped voice, and that one word just adds fuel to Merlin's anger, seeing as to how she keeps on protecting him, sticking to their cover even at a time like this.

Brown doesn't look scared or abashed at Merlin's sudden appearance – if there's one thing, he just seems irritated at being interrupted.

As much as Merlin would like to rip off the bastard's fingers one by one for touching Bonnie, he steels himself and forces his face neutral, his voice calm and collected – but freezing like ice. "You've got exactly three seconds to step away from her with your limbs still intact."

That earns him a loud snort from the three men. "What was that?" Brown laughs. "You guys heard something?"

"A mouse squeaking?" the other bloke, a blond – the one who hasn't even loosened his grip on Bonnie's arm – joins in. "Oh, wait, no. It's just the skinny stick of a man from the old geezer's workshop."

"Two."

"Ooh!" The brunette whistles. "Look at him! We should take shelter or else he'll throw bits of clocks at us!"

"Mummy, I'm scaaared!"

The guys laugh and laugh, and apparently don't notice how the storm becomes stronger and the thunders more frequent in sync with the darkening of Merlin's face. Bonnie however does. She can't seem to stop crying, but she bites on her lips and slowly shakes her head. _Don't expose yourself for me._

And that does it.

Merlin steps in front of the bunch of jackasses and slowly raises his hands. "I've warned you," he starts, and even he himself is surprised at how dangerous he sounds. "_Step. Away. From her_."

The amused smile drops from Brown's face as he finally stands up, adjusts his trousers and turns around to face Merlin. He's still not worried by far; he just leisurely crosses his arms in front of his chest and regards Merlin with a biting, arrogant look. "Fuck off, Bennett, you sound ridiculous. You know we could take you apart and throw in the Thames sooner then you could blink, so who's this show for? Just turn around and wait patiently till we finish with your sister, and if you're good, then perhaps you'll get a go, too, after that."

"I don't do fags like him!" the blond snorts immediately. "We should–"

In the end, it never comes out to the light what he thought they should do because in that moment, Merlin waves his hand and the guy flies across the field until he slams hard into a tree with a loud crash, collapsing helplessly at the roots.

"What the hell?!"

And really, that's the only thing the other brown-haired man manages to shout out before he meets the same fate as his mate. When he drops to the ground and doesn't move anymore, Brown lets out a strangled groan and snaps his head to Merlin, the first signs of puzzled fear of _not understanding the situation_ finally filling up his face. It catches Merlin by surprise how much he enjoys watching the way Brown's mouth trembles; the way he starts backing away instinctively as Merlin approaches him slowly with intent; the way he gapes and the shocked moan escapes his lips when he catches sight of the gleaming gold of Merlin's eyes. It makes the warlock feel powerful, confident and justified.

Merlin throws Brown to the nearest tree and pins him there, adjusting just enough pressure to his lungs to have him panting harshly, fighting for air.

"Russ," Bonnie says in a trembling voice, and though Merlin doesn't pulls his eyes away from Brown, he knows that she's watching him worriedly. "Don't do anything stupid, please!" And he understands that what she's really saying is _'Don't kill him – you don't really want to, you're not like that, you'd regret it.'_

He could do it. It wouldn't be the first time that he kills for someone he loves. But Bonnie deserves better than watching it through from the first row.

"Get the hell away from my sight," Merlin hisses at Brown instead, stressing the words with clashing waves of raw magic that hit the pinned guy like biting lashes of a whip. "You and your friends leave this place and for all I care, drown yourselves in a lake. But never again will you force yourself on someone, do you understand? Or else I'll hunt you down, all of you. Is that clear?"

Brown chokes out a whimper and nods, clawing at his own chest until Merlin finally releases him so that he can gasp for air. The warlock doesn't spare any more glances at him or his mates who're by this time slowly coming to themselves; he turns around and hurries to Bonnie. He kneels down beside her and collects her into his arms, not a caring a bit for how the mud soaks through his trousers, how the wet remains of the girl's clothes makes him wet and cold.

"Me…. Merlin…" she whispers into his ear, and she finally lets it go, leaving the dreads of the events bursting out at last. She groans and buries her head into Merlin's neck, and she sobs and weeps furiously.

"Ssh… I'm here," Merlin whispers back, hugging Bonnie tight to his body as if to shelter her from the entire world. "I'm here. Everything will be al–"

A load bang cuts into the air, the like of which makes all the other noise seemingly go dead, and Merlin goes rigid around Bonnie's fragile little form as a terrible, shooting pain stabs into the back of his head like someone has plunged an axe into his skull.

His arms fall down to the side of his body, and _fuck_, that hurts like _hell._

He's vaguely aware of the shouts around him, but to be honest, the only thing he can focus on is how Bonnie's red-rimmed eyes widen in terror.

"MERLIN!" she screams in dread, the same time as the other guys start shouting rapidly in alarm,

_"What the fuck have you done, Ken?!"_

"Jesus Christ, you've _shot_ him! _Right in the head!_ You're completely_ insane_, man?!"

"I'm not going to jail because of you, you shithead! I'm _no fucking way going to jail!"_

"Shut your bloody gobs, would you?!" Brown shouts back angrily. "Nobody's going to jail! We hide the body, chop it up and burn it, if we must, and nobody will ever find it!"

"But the girl–"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, just grab the chick and bring her to the…"

The sounds which were dull and distant-sounding at best up to this point are sharpening again, and Merlin blinks slowly, pulling himself back to reality from the dip, dazed state the pain put him in. He's aware of how Bonnie's crying, repeating his name again and again in a broken whisper, pleading and begging, and he's aware of how those bastards are talking about taking her away.

_Taking her away…_

No. Never. Over his dead body.

… Merlin almost laughs at that. Obviously, the odds are favouring_ him._

"That fucking _HURT_, you twat!" he groans loudly, touching the back of his head where hot, liquid wetness coats his palm. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he can hear four sharp intake of breath simultaneously.

The way the entire place goes dead silent like every sound is sucked out of air is almost funny, except that considering the current situation, it really isn't.

Bonnie's the first one to recover. "Merlin?" she stammers, fear, wonder and hope making her voice tremble, and Merlin reaches out to touch a warm palm to her tear-soaked cheek. "You… You are alright? Really?"

"No. Fucking. Way!" someone – Brown, by the sound of it – shouts in disbelief before Merlin could answer her.

Merlin sends Bonnie a warm look before his expression transforms into that of a vengeful warrior. He lets his arms drop, stands up and brushes his trousers before turning around with a deliberately unhurried motion, ice-cold eyes falling one by one onto the seemingly petrified young men, finally settling down on Brown who's staring at Merlin with his mouth agape, face so white that he could be mistaken for a ghost.

… Maybe he'll turn just into that soon.

"You really have _no idea_ who you've messed with, kid," Merlin says slowly, and his voice is practically dripping of barely guarded venom.

As if to support his point, lightning strikes the earth just behind Brown; an angry red flame sparks into life instantly, causing the stunned man to shriek and jump in shock and his two mates to moan in fear, pressing themselves to the nearest trees as if those would protect them from the warlock.

When Merlin takes a step towards Brown, he shudders visibly and tentatively raises his gun.

"Oh, you're not," Merlin says, eyes narrowing onto the violently shaking hand. "Once was enough, thank you." His eyes flicker, and Brown cries out in agony as his wrist breaks with a sickening crack, gun falling onto the ground uselessly.

He nears him, solidly closing the distance between himself and that sodding jerk as lightning continues striking to various places all the while, slowly setting up a fine wall of licking fire around the three bastards. His feet don't make any sound on the sloppy, wet ground; it's like he's _floating_, and he's vaguely aware that he (or Bonnie, for that matter) is not a bit soaked from the heavy rain, unlike the rest of them.

Brown outright squeals when Merlin comes to stand right in front of him. "Wha– What kind of monster are you?" he whimpers, dark eyes huge from fear as he takes in the formidable figure of the gold-eyed warlock.

Merlin doesn't need any time to think about his answer. "A protective one." And he shoves his fist into the guy's chest.

Visible, golden magic bursts out of Merlin's hand and curls itself chokingly around Brown's form, worms its way into the clothes, beneath the skin, and spreads out inside his body. Merlin grabs the soaked, black shirt of Brown and pulls him close; close enough so that he can pierce his eyes into Brown's own as he stares down hard at him without blinking.

"Merlin…?"

Merlin can hear the tentative, questioning voice of Bonnie not so far away from him, and he wishes he wouldn't have to do this in front of her. He's not killing the bastards, although he could do it with a snap of his fingers – no, he's only punishing them, but well enough so that they will never be able to forget about what they did this night.

Two brilliant trail of light stretch out of Merlin and surges to the side until they find the two other men who shriek and beg but can't do a thing to avoid magic hitting and connecting them to Brown, damning them to the same fate.

"You all are so full of your dick that you need to learn to live without it," Merlin starts in a dark, unforgiving tone, glowing eyes never leaving Brown's for a heartbeat as his magic corresponds eagerly to his words, working them true. "You will never have any use of it from now on. You will feel a sharp pain in your chest whenever you look at a female for more than five seconds, the pain increasing significantly the more you let your eyes linger." A beat. "The same goes for when you look at a male with certain_ intents_."

"Physical touch will never bring you pleasure anymore, but that won't stop you from craving for it. You will turn into humble monks, my friends." Merlin all but spits the last word as he finally releases his hold on the man, who in turn gasps for air like he's just reached the surface of a lake he quite nearly drowned in. He and his pals look like they've just witnessed a bloody gore of a murder and the perpetrator himself is now standing right in front of them.

The storm has subsided by now but the flashes of lightning and the thunderous crashes in the sky remains. Merlin hasn't let out this much magic in what feels like forever, and he takes a moment to appreciate it, to let the raw power fill his body until it feels like it'll spill – he closes his eyes and lets it shine and blaze like the sun, making the trees and the earth beneath his feet sing with from welcoming the long-forgotten, ancient magic.

He blinks his eyes open and looks forward with a swift motion, and watches the trembling three men sternly as the wall of fire that was previously caused by the strikes of lightning opens a gate, revealing a pathway to the direction of the village.

"Disappear from my sight," Merlin hisses then, and they jump like they've been hit by a whip. "But remember this: you can't talk anyone about what happened here tonight. You can't talk about it, nor can you write or express it in any way, in any form. You will never be able to forget, however, for I will haunt your dreams every night and make you regret a thousand times over that you ever thought about touching and forcing an unwilling girl this way." He waits a moment, letting the words sink in before he steps to the side and indicates to the gate in the massive fire wall with his head. When they still don't dare to make a move, Merlin snaps impatiently, "I said _bug off!_"

And they don't need to be told a third time. They dash without looking back as though they're followed by an angry pack of wolves.

Merlin stares after them before taking a deep breath, and when he sighs, all the charged tension evaporates from his body. His magic stills and crawls back into him as he runs back to Bonnie and takes her hands to help her stand up.

"Oh, gods, Bonnie," he breathes when he discovers the bright red patches of blood on her tattered skirt and the similar dark smears on her inner tights. "I'm _so sorry,_ I should have come sooner, I…" There are no words that can make it right, even though Merlin knows that he's not a seer, he couldn't have known – that he came the moment he noticed that something was amiss.

The girl is shaking wildly in front of him and when Merlin looks searchingly at her face, he's shocked to see the expression of sheer fear reflecting in her dark eyes. For a moment he freezes, terrified at the thought that with this display of extreme magic he made Bonnie scared of him beyond repair. Up till now she only ever saw him do lovely charms and useful little tricks, nothing this big and destructive… What if she's scared to the bones of him? What if she'll never trust him again? He'd promised to keep her safe after all, and failed…

Merlin's on the edge of hyperventilating when the stupor leaves them and Bonnie chokes out a sob before she throws her arms around Merlin and pulls him into an embrace.

"Oh my god, Merlin…" she sobs in a hardly comprehensible voice. New tears are streaming down her face and soaking the warlock's shirt. "Oh, god, I thought they've killed you, I thought I've lost you, I– I…" She bites on her lips to stop herself from crying, but she can't help it, just like she can't help the furious shaking of her body. When she continues, it's nothing more but a broken whisper, "I thought I've lost my only remaining family…"

And Merlin understands that Bonnie isn't scared_ of_ him – she's scared _for him_.

He hugs her close as he returns the embrace, and places a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He turns his apology into a soothing mantra. "I'm so sorry, Bonnie."

They stand like there for a long time, clasping at each other until the ragged breathing of Bonnie finally calms down. She takes one last shaking breath and looks up at Merlin. "You came," she whispers, and Merlin can't fail to notice how her eyes shine like brilliant gemstones under a fine layer of wetness. "I was so afraid… I…."

Her voice falters and breaks, so Merlin takes her hand and presses another light pack at her forehead.

"And what if they don't do what you told them? What if they tell someone about you? If they..."

"They can't," Merlin interrupts in a firmly reassuring way. "I charmed them. They_ literally_ can't let others know about me, so don't worry. It's over now. Let us go home."

Bonnie makes a choking noise that could either be an agreeing hum or a sobbing sniff, but she leans onto Merlin as he winds his arm around her slender form and starts walking her out of the woods. The wall of fire is still present, though, so Merlin glances at it and attempts to make it disappear with a swish of his hand.

The fire however doesn't die out. Instead, it wobbles as if strong wind was running through its entire extent, and abruptly collapses to the ground – only to explode into a single giant flame the next moment, brighter and hotter than anything the warlock has ever seen before. The flame flutters and dances and actually _sparks,_ and before Merlin and Bonnie's dumbfounded eyes, a pair of wings suddenly appear within the mass of fire, followed by a ruby-coloured head of a bird and immediately after, a red-golden feathered body.

The creature lifts its head and looks directly at Merlin, and he lets out a strangled moan of shock when he realizes that they've just witnessed the birth of an honest-to-god _phoenix._

"Oh my goodness," Bonnie exclaims in a breathy voice, clearly fearful but still awed. "Is this a…?"

But Merlin can't seem to find the ability to answer because he's shocked right to his core. He had assumed that all magical creatures have already become extinct – and yet here is one, standing in front of him and what's more, _looking him in the face_ while doing so. It's a shocking and wonderful and scary and beautiful… and absolutely _indescribable_ moment.

And it just turns more all the more shocking when the phoenix bows its head slightly and the next moment a soft, silky voice starts ringing in Merlin's head. _:: I greet you with honour, Emrys. ::_

Bonnie lets out a tiny, surprised moan. Apparently, Merlin's head is not the only one were the voice appeared in.

"Wha– How did you–," Merlin stutters, completely taken aback. "I mean, I thought phoenixes reproduce the natural way and not just… just…"

_:: We do, ::_ the phoenix answers calmly as it – _he_, by the sound of it – steps out of the flame, which then once again collapses onto the ground and disappears. _:: But sometimes, very rare times, when natural fire mingles with powerful magic, the unique mix breeds a new life that is unlike the rest of us. _:: He blinks slowly at Merlin. ::_ I am not a nestling, nor an elder. I hold all the memories, flaws and wisdom of my kind, and when I die, I will not be born again from my ashes. I am what we call an Enphionix – a phoenix of higher entity. I had been called forth by you, great Emrys, and for that I thank you. ::_

"No," Merlin says instantly, shaking his head even before the phoenix finishes his speech. "I'm sorry, but had I known about this before I'd have been careful to not bring you to life. I don't mean to sound unappreciative but… _you are not safe! _The last magical creature I knew died more than three hundred years ago, and to my knowledge, she was the very last one. The world has changed drastically since the ages of your kind… there's hardly any magic left in it, and if humans learn about you, they'll try to capture you." Merlin takes a shaking breath. "I don't want that to happen to you. Can you hide away somewhere? Somewhere, where no one can find you and you'll be safe?"

The phoenix watches Merlin for a long time before he leans down at touches its beak to the earth for a second. Something flashes, and when the fire-bird next looks up, Merlin can see the answer in the amber pools of his eyes. _:: Yes. I will hide in the mountains and make myself invisible for the duration of the years I have before me. ::_

Merlin wants to reply in some way, he really wants, but his tongue feels heavy and numb inside his mouth. This is the first time he sees something from his old life – a being that is magic like himself, almost a kin – since Aithusa, and he should be happy, delighted even... but the only thing he feels is pure fear. Once again he caused a disturbance in sensitive balance of the world by bringing a long-forgotten being into life, and now he must condemn this beautiful creature into a long, lonely life of hiding because of his carelessness.

As if the he was reading Merlin's distressed thoughts, the phoenix says with a new breath,_ :: I am aware that my existence means a great discomfort to you, Emrys, but do not regret creating me. There might come a time when I can be off assistance to you, and if that time do come to pass, you will discover that nothing happens without a reason. ::_

With his throat impossibly tight, Merlin can only manage a nod.

The phoenix opens his large, shining wings and bows again to Merlin before making a long glance at the petrified girl beside the warlock. _:: Through the memories of my kind, I can remember that for a long time, phoenixes saw Emrys walk very alone and very pained. I am glad that you are here now, young lady, to put the smile back onto his face. He was in high need of that. ::_

_:: My name is Epheral, ::_ he says as he takes off, and for a second Merlin sees a bright stripe of dancing flame sparkling in the sky as Epheral flies higher and higher up_. :: If our paths cross each other again, it will bring me great pleasure. ::_ And with a final blazing flash, he disappears.

Merlin gapes after him for a long time, and judging by the desperate grip of Bonnie, he thinks that she might be doing just that, too. After some time however, he becomes painfully aware of how they are alone now – alone with all the secrets Merlin couldn't quite confess up to this point now out into the open, swirling and rustling distractingly around them in the air.

He can feel Bonnie's long intake of breath, the way her fingers tremble as she releases her dead hold on Merlin, and panic fills Merlin's chest the third time this evening.

… But a second later it becomes apparent that Bonnie released him only to turn around, so that she can wrap her arms around Merlin's shoulders. Suddenly, her face falls like all the dreads of the past hours are just coming back to her after the shocking last-minute events, and she looks exhausted beyond measure.

She presses her forehead to Merlin's chest and nuzzles close as if looking for protection, like she did when she was a child. "Take me home, brother," she mutters quietly.

And Merlin does.

* * *

They don't stay at Marlow after that. Bonnie can't bear it, and if Merlin is honest, neither does he. They sell their house (undersell, more likely, but that doesn't really matter since Merlin had more than enough time to gather up a sufficient amount of savings) and everything they don't need, and the next month already finds them in Ferns, a quiet Northern-Ireland town in County Wexford.

They haven't really spoken about what happened that night, though Merlin was – and still is – anticipating it nervously. He knows Bonnie like his palm, and he's sure that the girl must have figured out everything by now, so he doesn't understand why she doesn't question him, why she doesn't address the matter like anyone else would. Maybe she thinks it's easier for Merlin like this, but it really isn't.

Maybe it's the same as with what those bastards did to her. Bonnie tells Merlin that a fellow classmate, Thomas asked her out that evening, and she went out with him without suspecting anything. It turned out that Brown and his mates _paid that guy down_ to bring Bonnie to them.

Merlin doesn't track this Thomas bloke down, but only because Bonnie had made him promise not to.

She doesn't answer however when Merlin asked her if she would want him to restore what Kenneth Fucking Brown took away from her by force. She said she doesn't know; throwing away what is part of her is never justified, no matter how unwanted or ugly that part may be – is what Alice has always taught Bonnie. Merlin tells her that whenever she decides that she wants to, she just has to let him know and Merlin will do it in a second. Still, he has a sigh of relief when Bonnie doesn't say no to the spells that guarantee that any diseases or a potential child conceived by the unsought act will vanish without a trace.

Five months fly by, which they spend mostly with adjusting to their new place of home and leaving the fresh wounds heal. By this time, Merlin has given up on being on constant standby for the case if Bonnie suddenly decides that she _does_ want to have that talk after all, and due to this, he's much calmer and decidedly less clumsier these days, not anticipating an attack on his sanity every other day.

… This is the reason for why he's absolutely not prepared for when Bonnie abruptly drops the bomb on his head in a nice, sunny afternoon.

"You're the real deal, aren't you?"

With his nose buried deep inside Sir Doyle's _His Last Bow _(which he reads for at least the umpteenth time but that doesn't stop him from being completely engulfed in the stories), Merlin doesn't actually pay attention the question at first.

"Mmm, yes…" He mumbles slowly, the question doesn't registering in his head at all. At the irritated puff of air however, which is usually the accompanying sign of Bonnie rolling her eyes, Merlin forces his attention away from the lines. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said I know that you're the real deal," Bonnie says loud and hard, looking determinedly at Merlin's rapidly paling face. "Not just someone who _happened to be_ named after a great wizard… You_ are_ the great wizard. Am I right?"

The book falls from Merlin's suddenly frozen hands and falls to the ground with a sharp bang that seems to be sounding far louder than how it realistically should. Merlin blinks and gasps, but he can't really catch his breath because his lungs are suddenly so tight and pained as if an overweight hippopotamus was currently stomping on them cheerfully to the rhythm of _La Marseillaise_.

"I'm…" And that's it – the question he's been anticipating for _months_, the question to which he has a long and detailed speech prepared in at least five differently altered variations, one of which he planned to put into use depending on the type of situation in which Bonnie brings the issue up… yet now that she_ does_ bring it up, Merlin finds himself gaping like a fish out of water, his well-practised pre-invented speech slipping away from his brain like it was never even there. "I…"

"No, let me talk."

Bonnie sits down on the couch in front of Merlin's armchair with an earnest expression on her face, but the tense folding of her hands and the way she worries his lower lip with her teeth tells Merlin that she's just as nervous about having this conversation as he is.

"I have kind of already suspected it," she starts, not quite looking into Merlin's face but not completely averting her eyes, either. "Even before… _that_ happened. For all your nice and cheerful personality, there was always something dark and heavy around you, something that I could feel but not grasp… something that I knew you didn't want to talk about. You wanted to lock it and keep it away from me, like your birthday and age, your numerous aliases and old friends and family… Even as a child, I knew that you only let bits of your past slip and I learnt not to ask. You were my saviour, after all," she adds with a small shrug and a light smile. "You still are."

"At school, we used to talk about Arthurian legends with my literature teacher. She told us about the great wizard Merlin who had so immense power that he could control the forces of nature – make the sky crash at his will, get flowers blossom in the middle of winter and have raindrops freeze midway in the air. I thought it was funny, how you're a wizard yourself and named after such a person, and I really wanted to know if you could do things like that, too, but I never dared to ask."

Bonnie wets her lips and looks down at her hands which have somewhat stilled now that she has warmed up to talking. She seems lost in her thoughts, as if she's trying to go over the thousands of things that are circling restlessly in her head, and when she finally looks up, Merlin can see that the light smile that teased her lips while she was reminiscing about her younger days has all but disappeared by now, being replaced something heavy and sad.

"After that what happened with Kenneth," she continues in a quieter voice, "I realized I was deliberately ignorant about the whole issue, trying to hold onto the pretence of having a carefree, wonderful older brother who happened to have charming magical tricks up in his sleeves. I didn't want to see how you could be something so much_ more_... someone that I wouldn't be able to have and keep. I was afraid that if I confirm that you are the same powerful hero of the ancient world legends and myths are full of, I lose my chance to have you and you will have to leave me. I'm still afraid of that, to be honest," she adds, and it doesn't escape Merlin's notice how her voice trembles at that. "I'm scared of the thought that I could lose you who have become my brother in everything but blood. But… I won't be ignorant anymore."

Merlin is absolutely abashed by the sheer force of determination that outshines fear in Bonnie's dark brown eyes. He takes in the tense set of her mouth, the way her fingers grip the folds of her skirt, and he knows that no matter what happens, what Bonnie says to him after, he will never leave her alone if that's not what she wants.

"After we have moved here, I started frequenting at the local library. I tried to dig up everything I could on Arthurian legends so I could confirm once and for all if I'm crazy for thinking if you're a thousand years old sorcerer or not. But it wasn't… Books didn't really help me. You know, old texts say absolutely nothing about whether the great wizard Merlin was a lame cook, who snored _awfully_ loud whenever he got flu. Whether he messed up the lines everyone knew while puppet-playing to kids. Whether he was really terribly clumsy, and had ears that would make Dumbo jealous…"

She cracks a small laugh and to Merlin's utter shock he spots the shine of unshed tears in Bonnie's eyes when she looks at him, smiling while being on the edge of crying. As she keeps on talking, her voice become impossibly tight from emotions and it makes Merlin feels strangely overcome by _feelings_.

"But the texts _do _say that he had the kindest of hearts," Bonnie says, watery eyes never leaving Merlin's, "and the gentlest of souls. That he was powerful but compassionate, and so very humble that he never ever took any credit for all the good things he did for Camelot. That in the beginning, he was only a mere servant, but with time he became the most trusted friend and advisor of King Arthur. That he helped him build his kingdom, and when King Arthur died in a battle, Merlin too had all but disappeared and, presumably, died in solitary."

"But then I found this book that speaks about an accompanying legend. It says…" Bonnie bites on her lip and puts her hand on Merlin's, and only then the warlock realizes just how very much he's shaking. He tries to stop it, tries to make himself calm down but he can't, he really can't. Blood drums madly in his ears, and Merlin almost misses what Bonnie whispers next. "It says that Merlin hasn't really died, because he was none other than Emrys – the mighty figure of ancient Druid prophecies who was told to be one side of a set that would bring Britain to glory twice through the ages, with the other side being King Arthur. It says that even though Arthur was a mortal man, when he lost his life, he was put into an age-long sleep at an otherworldly place called Avalon, so that he can rise again when his land needs him the most. It says that Merlin was promised Arthur's return, so he left… and started his lonely, ageless wandering around the world, always, _always _waiting for his King…"

His eyes sting, even though Merlin has thought that he doesn't have any tears left for his old life. His nails dig painfully into his palms as he clenches his fists, and he can't swallow for the heavy lump in his throat, can't properly_ breathe_ for the crushed feeling of his lungs.

Bonnie throws her arms around his neck and pulls him close, and it's strange and weird because it was always Merlin who'd pulled the girl close for comfort, not the other way around. He can hear Bonnie's shaky intake of breath in synch with his own laboured breathing, can feel the soft caress of the end her long braid on his skin.

Bonnie's practically crying as she chokes out, "I didn't want that to be true. I didn't want to accept that you could be the same Merlin because it would mean that you had to endure life for such a long time I can't even bear thinking about it… that you had to watch everyone around you wither away and die, leaving you all by yourself… I didn't want that because that would mean that I, too… that I will– that the same thing will happen to you again, and I don't want that, Merlin, _I don't want that!" _

Merlin wraps her arms around Bonnie and hugs her back earnestly, shaking as he feels her wet cheeks sliding against his neck. "I don't want to make you go through that again! I've always thought I was so fortunate for having you find me, but if I accept who you are, I also must face the truth of that by choosing to stay with me and coming to care for me, you have put your heart at the risk of getting it broken again, and I don't want to hurt you, Merlin, I… I don't want to hurt you. But I will! I will–"

"Ssh…", Merlin breathes out, and even that quiet sound is so scratchy and raspy that he shudders. "Bonnie, I… Please, don't think that for a second. I never once regretted coming to know you, coming to love you. Yes, I've lost many people I cared for, but… but it always worth it at the end, because my memories of them will always be with me. I…" He takes a deep breath, and slowly lets it out. His hand comes to rest on her wet cheek, and he forces her to look into his eyes as he speaks. "Bonnie, I can't even begin to tell how much you've given me. _I'm_ the fortunate one for finding you, and I will be forever grateful that I was granted this chance of knowing you. Unless you send me away… if you want me to stay with you… I will do so for as long as you live, and I won't be sad at having my heart broken, because that will mean that I had something precious before." He manages a teary smile at the girl. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

Bonnie shakes her head and sniffs. "I understand. It was hard for me, coming to accept it, so I understand it must have been four times as hard for you. But why–" She sniffs and sobs again and quickly scrubs at her reddened eyes. "Why would you think I would ever send you away? You know I love you like family."

"Yeah, of course I know, but still…" Embarrassment and lingering fears make Merlin cringe uncomfortably. "I was afraid that once you learn who I am, you'll be scared of me. I didn't… I wanted to avoid that at any cost. That night when… when that happened, I saw fear in your eyes directed at me for the first time, and you've _no idea_ what that did to me." The confession burns his tongue like acid as he remembers the terrified look on Bonnie's face. "I know now that you were scared _for _and not _of_ me, but… still, I couldn't let that happen. And then the whole thing just came out to the air nothing like the way I wanted it, and then you never spoke about it after, and I just…" His voice halts, Merlin not being sure how he'd want to finish the sentence.

Bonnie looks searchingly at his face. "You thought the reason I haven't brought it up sooner was… this? That I was scared of you?"

"Dunno." Merlin lowers his eyes. "I couldn't be sure. Nobody would judge you for getting scared. I _did_ get a hole in my head, after all."

Even though it must be a terrible memory for Bonnie, Merlin's happy to note that she can manage a gasping-chuckling sound at that. "Yes, well. That wasn't a very nice sight."

When Merlin doesn't really reciprocate the light tease of a smile, Bonnie takes Merlin's hands and looks fiercely into his eyes.

"Merlin, the only reason I haven't brought it up sooner is because firstly I had to come to terms with it. If I had known it was eating your heart out like that, honestly, I wouldn't have waited this much. There's one thing we have to get into that thick skull of yours, though: I would_ never_ be afraid of you. Okay?" She leans in and places a light peck on Merlin's cheek. "'Once I learn who you are'… What on earth, Merlin? I _know_ who you are! You're the kindest, sweetest person ever to walk the globe, and a bit of a dolt, really, but you wouldn't hurt a fly without a good reason. Yes, you have terrific power and you could probably make people blow up just by twitching your eyebrow… but the important bit? You _don't do that_. Even Kenneth and his buddies… What they did was more than enough to have someone else kill them on the spot, and after what Kenneth did to you I'm not sure even_ I_ would have stopped you from finishing them off. But still you didn't." She caresses his face for a moment, the heaviness finally leaving her expression when she smiles. "So, you see, I really have no reason to be afraid of you."

Merlin sighs out one last deep breath, and with that, all of his fears melt away into contented happiness. His whole body feels so light with relief that he thinks he might just start floating like a balloon. It's so different from his first and last great confession… that time all he got was rejection, hurt and fear. Merlin never wanted to hurt Arthur, much less make the him fear him, and it's only now that he's survived confessing to Bonnie… only now does he dare to admit that he was terrified of getting same reaction from the girl.

Sure, Arthur forgave him in the end, after he had time to understand and accept. But then he died. With Bonnie, Merlin will make sure that it ends differently. They still have much time ahead of them… And yes, it will cause an unimaginable amount of pain to lose Bonnie too in the end, but Merlin didn't lie when he said it will worth it. He got used to dealing with watching his loved ones go many centuries ago. It never gets less painful, but maybe a bit easier, once he learns how to handle the loss.

"So," Bonnie starts, after she blows her nose loudly and offers a clean handkerchief to Merlin, which he reluctantly (and very embarrassedly) accepts, "will you tell me about your life before I met you?" When their eyes met, she hastily adds, "You don't have to, if you don't want to. I just… I just want you to know that I'd be happy to listen. You can't tell me anything that would make me love you any less, you know."

And Merlin nearly weeps again as love fills his heart so much that he thinks it might tear apart from fullness. He never realized how much he missed_ this_ – having this kind of honest and raw connection with another being. With Aithusa, they never talked about the love they felt for each other. It was just there, an unsaid secret between the two of them that they hadn't the need to address because they could feel it day and night whenever they were connected. With Bonnie, it's different: more human, and therefore more fragile. It's odd how Merlin feels more related to a dragon then he feels to a human, but maybe that's just because he and Aithusa both were broken relicts of a long-forgotten time. However, Bonnie is born of this world, and that she's willing to share it with Merlin is so astonishingly wonderful that he can't help but laughing out loud.

He still laughs when he wraps an arm around Bonnie and pulls her close, so they're pressed side-to-side in Merlin's armchair that really wasn't designed to the breadth of two people, and the goofy smile doesn't leave his face for the rest of the afternoon.

Sherlock Holmes' adventures all but forgotten, Merlin tells Bonnie stories about his life in Ealdor, his life in Camelot and then his life in various spots of the Earth. He feels light-headed in a way that is almost like being pissed, but it's a good kind of feeling, an _easing_ kind of feeling. He can't remember the last time he went all nostalgic without feeling the constant throb of heartache in his chest. It's like it doesn't even hurt now when he shares it with Bonnie. Like he's just found an old photo album he didn't even remember of, and now pleasure makes his heart swell as he flips through the pages.

At Bonnie's request, he talks about Arthur as well, and really, it's like visiting an old friend whom he still misses dearly but can see past the pain of not being by his side.

Merlin does his best to destroy the girl's clearly over-esteemed opinion of Arthur by telling her stories about how he was a right prat, always ordering Merlin around and never once listening to him ("Yet_ always_ blaming me for whenever lightning came struck for his own hard-headedness – see what happened with the unicorn, with Aggravaine and Mordred, and a thousand things in between that I warned him of!"), how he never dared to stand up to his father, and danced around a whole lot of ridiculous women before finally proposing to Gwen ("Everybody called her Gwen, she preferred that, too, yet that posh git was always going about 'Guinevere, Guinevere', like it was hotter"), how he would chase Merlin with a skinning-knife whenever Merlin reminded him the time Arthur got turned into a half-donkey hybrid ("That was bloody _hilarious_, I'll never forget that one!"), and how he was actually _pouting _like someone has just kicked his puppy when he lost to Merlin in a dice game.

Bonnie chuckles and laughs and snorts together with Merlin, and as the man eases into talking, he doesn't even notice when his Let's Wreck King Arthur's Image campaign gradually loses its bite. All he knows is that one minute he's talking about Arthur's imaginary but oh-so-amusing obesity, and in the next he's bragging about how a really great and noble man Arthur was, always putting the interests of his kingdom above anything else; how compassionate and honourable he was, with a deep-rooted trust in others that was _unbelievable_ considering the way he tended to surround himself with people who ended up betraying him in one way or another; how he made Merlin proud and happy by becoming the King he's always wanted to serve, the truest friend he's ever had, the most wonderful, gorgeous and admirable man he'll always–

"Merlin?"

Merlin breaks off in mid-sentence, blinking down at Bonnie like he's forgotten that she's there and was actually talking to himself loudly. The girl is leaning close to him, one arm thrown casually around his hip as she looks up at Merlin with a light, secret – almost teasing, but really too solemn for that – smile on her lips. "You're in love with Arthur."

It's not a question, not by far – just a simple observation stated with honesty and a bit of shyness, and Merlin's breath hitch when he realizes just how besotted he must have sounded. He blushes a furious shade of red that has Bonnie grinning like she's just received an early birthday present.

"Yeah," Merlin breathes, because he doesn't see the point in denying the obvious. "Yeah, I am."

And maybe it's all a bit too much for one day, because doubts and fears start clawing at his heart again, dangerous what-ifs and nervous oh-my-gods that have Merlin on the verge of hyperventilating – _again_…

Until Bonnie laughs out loud and _that_ breaks the final stupor.

"Are you kidding me?" she asks cheerfully, winking up at Merlin with joyed stars glimmering in the warm chocolate of her eyes. "I have an immortal, thousand-year-old gay wizard for a brother! How much cooler I can get?!"

And that makes Merlin join in with her laughing.

* * *

Merlin doesn't like the idea that a being so similar to him should be alone its entire life. He knows it better than anyone how lonely and painful that can be.

So the next time there is a storm at night, he goes out into the forest, alone, gathers together a bundle of dry leaves and directs nature so that a lightning strikes right at the centre of it. It should be strange, how natural it feels to control the elements of the world, but it really isn't. It comes to him like breathing, and it doesn't leave his heart beating crazy and his blood flowing insanely like that one time when he clashed with Nimueh. It was a hundredth times easier when he controlled lightning on the night of the Battle of Camlann, but now… it's a millionth times more. Not a bit trickier than flicking a candle to light.

When the leaves hiss and a small fire flares up on them, Merlin extends his hand – only out of habit, mind you – and hits the orange flames with a wave of gentle but powerful magic.

He doesn't even think about not succeeding, because, honestly. How could he not?

The flames collapse and then immediately flash into new life, dancing vividly as the new life is created within its warm cocoon. When the amber eyes of the new-born Enphionix open and look directly at him, Merlin bows his head slightly and lowers his arm.

_:: Greetings, Emrys,_ :: the phoenix – a female this time – says, silken voice echoing long inside Merlin's head as she steps out of the fire which then quickly disappears_. :: I am Sphera. ::_

"Hello, Sphera," Merlin answers. "I wanted… I don't know, are you aware of everything that has happened, as well?"

Sphera closes her eyes. _:: I know what has happened to my kind, and I also feel the presence of a kin of mine. Yes… ::_ The eyes open. _:: You have brought him to life by accident. Me, on the other hand, on purpose. ::_

"Yes. I didn't want him to be completely alone, so I created you. Can you find him?"

_:: Can one half of a pair of wings find its other half? ::_

Merlin takes that as a yes. "Then go to him, please."

Sphera bows her head in the warlock's direction and disappears with a flash.

* * *

The first time Bonnie fell in love, she was ten. Merlin thought it was sweet how she and – what was his name? Bobby? Toby? – the object of her crush went to school hand in hand. When the girl came home with a flower pinned into his hair, practically _beaming_, Merlin cooked her hot cocoa and sat down with her to listen to how Bobby/Toby started courting her. The children's dating went on for exactly three weeks, after which they mutually decided that they have more love for playing and they should resume being only great friends.

When Bonnie falls in love the next time, she's seventeen, really not a child anymore, and Merlin knows that he must take it seriously this time. When a blushing Bonnie tells Merlin that Eugene Turner has asked her out to dinner, Merlin's stomach does_ things_ that it didn't do the last time when she went playing in the sand with Bobby/Toby.

He knows that Bonnie has changed a lot after that thing with Kenneth Brown. She somewhat lost her trust in men, became wary of them and so if she sees something in this Eugene, than Merlin should trust her judgement. He should be glad that Brown couldn't manage to scar her for life.

When Merlin finally meets Bonnie's beau, all of his previous worries fly away within an instant. Eugene is a gentle and nice young lad, only two years older than Bonnie, and a journalist at the same publisher where Bonnie has just started working at. The tall, ginger-haired man is polite and respectful, and Merlin is all but delighted when Eugene himself states that he'll bring Bonnie home by ten. He's all lovely and clearly head over heels in love with Bonnie, so Merlin puts only the smallest of tracking charms on him. (There's still such a thing as precaution.)

Merlin waits up for Bonnie that night, and when she comes home, there seem to be a permanent flush to her cheeks.

The first successful rendezvous is followed by several others, and so Merlin really shouldn't be surprised when one night in the week of Bonnie's eighteenth birthday she storms into Merlin's room screaming, "He proposed to me! Merlin, he proposed to me!"

Merlin, who's somewhat fallen asleep in the middle of translating a Russian book and now sports a bright red print line on his forehead, stretches. "Who pro'ssed wha'?" he yawns.

"Eugene! Eugene proposed to me, aren't you listening?"

"Eugene proposed..." And suddenly, he's not drowsy at all. "What? Eugene_ proposed_ to you?!"

Bonnie rolls her eyes, but the grin doesn't quite leave her face. "That's what I was saying, you daft!"

"Oh my god," Merlin breathes. "I'm marrying you off. _I'm marrying you off!_ I mean, you certainly said yes, haven't you? Eugene's as good of a guy as you can get, even better, and you're clearly smitten so you'd be a fool to turn him down. Oh, but I can't make speeches at the wedding, I'd fret, you have to ask someone from Eugene's side for that. And the meal, Christ! Whatever will we serve to the guests? How many guests are you inviting, anyway? Maybe we won't even fit in the…"

"Good grief, Merlin, don't you start going all hyper before me!" Bonnie shouts and springs at Merlin, laughing.

They end up sitting on the carpet, with their backs leaning against the side of Merlin's bad, both panting heavily from laughing and tackling with each other.

"I guess a congratulations is in order, isn't it?" Merlin asks after a while, making a side-glance at Bonnie.

"I guess." Bonnie makes a small, happy laugh, but then the smile withers from her face. She drops her eyes, and when she next speaks, her voice is really quiet. "Merlin, I… I wanted to talk to you. About, well."

Merlin moves closer to her instinctively. "What is it?"

"If we really get married with Eugene, then… Well. You know. My– my wedding night."

Bonnie won't meet his eyes, staring a hole into the carpet, and Merlin can kind of understand that because "Bonnie" and "wedding night" and "all the things implied" together in his head are just a bit too much for him. For a moment he starts fretting that she's asking for certain details, but that can't be because they've been through the "birds and the bees" talk before she hit puberty, long before that thing with Brown…

Oh.

"Is this about Kenneth Brown?" Merlin asks as gently as he can, and he can see Bonnie sucking her lips in.

"Yes."

"I can still do that spell, that repair I offered back then," he says quickly and reassuringly. "It wouldn't take a second, and Eugene wouldn't have to know. You know; if you don't want him to."

"But that's just it – I _want_ him to know! I…" Bonnie sighs before finally lifting her chin to look at Merlin. "I thought it through tons of times, and I decided that I won't have you do that, simply because for all your magic you can't give back my innocence. Not when you can't erase it from my head." She tenses for a moment. "Well, you could, probably, but…"

"I wouldn't ever, you know that."

"Yes, I know. What I'm trying to say is that the way Kenneth forced me has left a scar in me, and you can make it invisible, you can make it undetectable, but it will _still_ be there. I want Eugene to understand me, to know exactly why he gets what he gets in place of what he's surely anticipating… and for that, I need to be honest."

Merlin puts his arm around her shoulders and she leans into him instantly. "So you're going to tell him?"

"Yes." Bonnie draws her legs up and stares at her feet absently. "Do you think I shouldn't?"

"No. I think you choose to be very brave and absolutely admirable. He'll understand it. He's a good guy," Merlin adds, and he's sure that Bonnie understands it clearly just how much of a blessing it is. "And what about you? Are you… Well, you'll be alright?"

Teeth scrape against her lower lip. "I hope so. I'm… scared, to be honest. That first time didn't exactly leave me with pleasant memories. But… I want to. You know. Be with him." She swallows, and a small smile finally finds its way back to her face. "I love him."

"Yeah, I know," Merlin answers with a smile of his own. "He's one lucky guy."

They keep sitting on the carpet for a few couple of minutes in silence before Bonnie slowly lifts her head from where it had been resting against Merlin's shoulder and looks at him with a strange expression. "I… Um. Merlin, do you feel up to being brave with me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I want to tell him about you, too."

Merlin nearly chokes on his own tongue. He can sense that Bonnie is watching him warily, so he tries to get back his composure while the girl (well, young woman, really, even if it's hard for Merlin to admit it) starts with a hasty explanation, "We don't have to tell him everything like you did with me. I just only want him the have a general idea about who you are – 'Merlin, the ageless warlock and clutz of our century'. If I marry him, it won't be just the two of us anymore. He'll be _family_. And family members don't lie to each other."

"It wouldn't be lying! Just… not telling the exact truth." He sighs when he sees the dark scowl Bonnie regards him with. "Okay, I get what you're saying, but… Have you really thought it through? What if he freaks out? You couldn't blame him. And if he decides that he's better off without you because of me…"

"He won't," Bonnie interrupts firmly, and there is so much blindingly obvious faith in her voice that Merlin can't help but shut up. "I mean, he may freak out at first, that's not to be unexpected, but he won't leave me because of you. He might need time, but eventually, he'll understand. He's a good guy." The playful wink she's giving Merlin while echoing his words from before doesn't go unnoticed. "That's why I love him."

Merlin leans back until his head lies on the bed, and he gazes at the ceiling pensively so long that when he next look at Bonnie, he finds her kneeling and watching him worriedly.

"Come on, Merlin," she says at last, one hand coming to rest on Merlin's. "Be brave with me."

The warlock closes his eyes, but his hand folds itself around Bonnie's. "But I'll let you know that if this _does _end up in a disaster, you'll be cooking me Italian for the rest of your life."

Bonnie's grin is positively blinding. "Deal."

* * *

It doesn't end up in a disaster. Eugene takes it relatively well when "Russell" and Bonnie sit him down in the living room with a large pot of tea and a bit of brandy. Bonnie starts talking, and though she doesn't go into details, she tells him everything that she thinks he needs to know. Merlin's oddly nervous even though he finds comfort in the thought that if all hell breaks loose, he can wipe the boy's brain clear of this conversation anytime.

But it never comes to that. Eugene's first reaction is disbelief, then (after a small display of magic which includes a floating pot that fills Eugene's cup with hot tea all on its own) absolute shock, which then quickly evolves into outright _excitement _as he exclaims, "Wow, that's so cool! I bet it comes handy in everyday life!"

Bonnie bursts in laugh, and practically flies to Eugene's open arms, pressing a big kiss on his smiling mouth. "I think I have just fallen in love with you again."

They are both blushing like the enamoured lovebirds they are, and it does not help when Merlin mockingly groans and covers his eyes. "Please refrain from progressing things to X-rated in my presence or I will not be able to look my little sister in the eye anymore!"

Eugene flushes an even brighter shade, Bonnie however drops her eyes.

Oops. They still have to have another conversation, Merlin remembers, one which that does not concern him however, so he gets up, takes his empty teacup and excuses himself. "I'll leave you kids to yourselves, then. I'll be in my room if I'm needed."

"Russell!" Eugene shouts after him, to which Merlin halts and looks back at the guy with raised eyebrows. "I mean… Merlin. Sorry, it will take a while to get used to that." The warlock waves the apology away and motions for Eugene to continue. "I just wanted to thank you for trusting me. Not only with your secret… but with Bonnie as well. I promise that I will never let you down. I will never let _her_ down."

Merlin just stands there, staring hard, as if he's sizing the man up, and somehow it's like he sees the boy for the first time and yet feels like he's known him forever. He takes Eugene in from the perfectly combed, ginger-coloured hair to the black-framed glasses and the determined face, the way the tip of his ears are still bright red, and Merlin knows that he really couldn't have asked for more for Bonnie. They're in love, and they'll be happy.

"I know," he answers softly after a long while, and it doesn't escape his notice how Eugene lets out a relieved sigh at his words. "I really know. Because, frankly, I can't imagine you fancying yourself my toilet brush for the rest of your sorry life in the case you _do_ end up abusing my trust after all."

It's highly amusing to watch how Eugene's face falls so low that his jaw practically touches the floor, and a stunned and even fearful expression fills his face… until he discovers the playful glitter of mirth in Merlin's eyes which makes him promptly realize that the warlock was just teasing him.

… Well, mostly.

Merlin hums cheerfully to himself as he goes back to his room, takes out his violin from its case and after a few adjusting moments, starts playing the first movement of Vivaldi's Violin Concerto in A Minor (L'Estro Armonico Op. 3, Concerto number 6, RV 356, to be completely precise.)

Before he loses himself completely to the melody, he silently wishes Bonnie luck.

* * *

Bonnie and Eugene get married after the last of the winter frost leaves, at the first sunny day of springtime.

The last wedding Merlin attended was both joyous and harrowing, so to speak: he had to watch as someone he loved dearly got married to someone he loved – and still loves – more than his own life. The royal wedding of Camelot was a grand and shining occasion, with more food and drink he'd ever seen in his life, and he remembers quite clearly that he was the one who had to make stupid excuses for His Royal Arseness who got so pissed in the first wee hours of his newly-wed life that Merlin had to hide him from Gwen for _hours_ until he more-or-less sobered up.

Bonnie and Eugene's wedding is much smaller (the attendants being Bonnie's only relative, Merlin; Eugene's only relative, his widowed mother, Helen; their mutual friends and colleagues from the publisher; and last but not the least three friends of Merlin from the cake shop he works at – so really no more than fifteen person altogether), but with this small number, the ceremony has an intimate, homely feel to it which makes it much lovelier than any grand occasion could feel.

"Oh, Russell, Bonnie looks _beautiful_," Helen whispers to Merlin as they both watch the bride and the groom with a touched smile on their faces. "And I've never seen Eugene this happy. I wish Jack could see them!"

Merlin knows by now that Helen's late husband, Jack Turner, fought in both World Wars and lost his life on the battlefield during the Second. He can offer no comfort for the woman, but he touches her shoulder for a second. "I'm sure he'd say the same. Just like our parents would," he adds, thinking about Alice and Roger, and even little Carl – people Merlin never met, but he keeps wishing he could now even for a second so they could see what a wonderful young women Bonnie grow up to be.

Bonnie is indeed beautiful in her snow-white wedding dress, her shining ebony hair braided into a complex bun on her nape and decorated with the flower-shaped silver barrettes she got as a present from Helen, a constant pink flush present on her cheeks. Eugene is really quite handsome and perfect as he stands by her side and keeps glancing at her like he can't believe it even now that he got so lucky as to win her over, like she's the most precious thing in the world… and Merlin feels extremely fond of the guy for looking at Bonnie with such an open and expressive love.

Merlin steels himself and does not cry during the ceremony (well, maybe he tears up a tiny little bit, but that's just because Helen is sobbing and weeping without a break next to him, so it's really not his fault), and later that night he's the first one to dance with Bonnie at the dinner party.

"I'm so proud of you," he says softly after kissing her cheek. "You're beautiful, Mrs Turner. Would it be really lame of me to be sort of jealous of Eugene for having you completely to himself now?"

"Belatedly developed sister-complex? Absolutely lame," Bonnie says with the same wide grin that has been plastered to her face since the priest proclaimed them married. "And besides, you are aware that he didn't really take me away from you, don't you? I'm _not_ changing family. I'm just expanding it."

"Yeah, I know." Merlin says, but he has to fight back the sigh that wants to escape his mouth when he thinks about a confession he's due to make to the new married couple. "I'm sorry, it's just… strange. I have never married anyone off like this before."

Bonnie's smile is pretty and brilliant. "Well, I have never got married before either, but so far, I rather enjoy the feeling."

They finish the dance, and Merlin gives Bonnie's hand to the next dance suitor before walking to the corner where he spots Archie and Sally, his mates from work.

"Hi, Russ," Sally greets him with a warm smile. "I think I haven't congratulated you yet."

"Oh, never mind," Merlin says, laughing. "Have you seen Gary? He promised me a beer," he looks at his watch, "half an hour ago. Where the hell did he disappear to?"

"I reckon I saw him pestering a friend of your sis," Archie says with a malicious chuckle. "Poor girl has all but fled to the restroom."

"I told you it was a bad idea inviting him," Sally chippers in. "He hasn't got any social manners. What were you thinking?"

Merlin shrugs and admits, "He paid me."

"In what? Marzipan cupcakes?"

"Hey! That only happened once, and I though we agreed on not mentioning it again!", he exclaims, and he seriously hopes that he can blame the light heating of his face on the champagne and his current anger, and not on embarrassment. Besides, she's not even right – it wasn't marzipan cupcakes. (Gary appeared in his doorstep with three large boxes full of caramel milk fudge candies, to be honest, but Merlin would bite his tongue off sooner than admitting it to Sally.)

He thinks he can't fool them though. After Archie and Sally stop chuckling at last, the woman turns to Merlin with a suddenly serious expression. "Have you finally told Bonnie that you are leaving?"

His embarrassment and discomfort escalates. "Not really. I mean… No. I haven't. Yet."

"Russell! What on earth are you waiting for?"

"She's right, you know," Archie joins in, and Merlin shots him a very dark look because honestly, he thought he could count on at least _this_ man on not chivvying him. "You quit your job weeks ago!"

"I know, I know. I just didn't want to… You know what she was like this last month, always floating with happiness. I figured my grand announcement can wait until we're finished with the wedding at least."

Sally crosses her arms in front of her bosom and regards Merlin with a sharp stare that raises goose bumps on his body. "Well, it's _your_ sister and brother-in-law… The wedding's over, you can start explaining yourself tomorrow."

Merlin sucks in his lip and in that moment he spots Gary approaching them with a nasty grin and two large jugs of beer.

"If I survive my hangover," Merlin adds with a groan that has both Archie and Sally laughing.

* * *

"What do you mean by that you're leaving?" she demands on a slightly panicked voice that has Merlin cringing like a child caught stealing in a shop. "Are you really leaving us? You can't do that, you promised me that you won't unless I–"

"Bonnie, calm down, it's not– it's not like that, I swear!"

One and a half week has passed since the wedding. Bonnie and Eugene have just returned from their honeymoon and Merlin (who has spent the last week with being sick to his stomach and rehearsing his leaving speech) finally forced himself not to chicken away.

Unfortunately, Bonnie took the news in the exact way Merlin predicted it: badly.

"I told you I don't want anything to change! You're still my brother, I still need you and I don't want you to go away…" She breaks off, and Eugene's right there by her side in an instant to pull her into his embrace. "Merlin, why do you want to leave us?"

"You totally misinterpreted my intention," Merlin says quietly. "I really am not leaving you. I never could – you're my family. But think it through, Bonnie: you've just married this wonderful guy. Surely you don't want me hovering around while you guys are easing into this newly married life?" Eugene's face heats up at his words and he glances at Merlin, but the warlock indicates not the interrupt him. "And despite what you seem to be thinking, you _don't _need me anymore. You have grown up, and you have a loving husband now who will protect you in my place. I won't disappear from your lives, I swear – I wouldn't want to. But I need to go on; I need to keep on expanding my universe until…" He takes a deep breath, and he knows there's no need for him to finish the sentence because all of them knows perfectly well what (or rather, whom) he's talking about… but he still wills himself to say it out. "Until Arthur returns."

"But you won't know when will that happen," Bonnie counters silently, and Merlin might just hate her a little bit in that moment for stabbing _that_ dagger in him, even if he understands that she doesn't do it to cause him pain but to stop him from leaving. "And you said you never liked travelling around. You said you liked it here."

"I do like it here. But it's not the travelling I disliked… it was the feeling of being constantly alone, separated from everyone else. You can't even begin to imagine what a wonderful present you gave me, how I feel in every moment I think about how I have a home now where I can return to. That's more than enough for me." He steps closer to the young woman, who lifts her head up from where it had been resting against her husband's chest and looks up at Merlin with unshed tears in her eyes. "And I will come back home. Frequently. I promise."

"Where will you go?" Eugene asks, still caressing Bonnie's back soothingly, and Merlin is glad for the slight distraction.

"To the States, eventually. I've only ever been there during the early years of colonization, after all; I really want to see it myself what had become of it. But first I have to make a short trip back to England." He thinks about his place beside the Lake, and warmth creeps into his chest.

Silence falls down on them, and it stays for long moments Bonnie reluctantly breaks it.

"The States are really far away," she says quietly. "You couldn't come home often."

"I could in every third or fourth month for at least a week. But trust me, once you settle in with Eugene, you won't even notice my absence."

"That's not true. How could it be?"

Merlin almost can't hold back the smile that threatens to break out on his face when Bonnie starts pouting. Suddenly, it's like the mature woman was completely gone and she was a small child again who's afraid of letting go of her big brother's hand.

Merlin touches Bonnie's arm and she flies from Eugene's embrace to Merlin's in a second, her arms wrapping themselves strongly around the man. Merlin returns the hug firmly and presses a light peck on the top of her head. "You can't honestly believe that I would leave you if I thought for a second that you still needed my constant protection and guidance."

"…No," Bonnie agrees after a sigh. "You wouldn't. It's just… weird. Thinking about how you won't be here always."

"I know. It's weird for me, too. But I trust you, both of you, so you should trust me as well."

"Aaand, before we get really embarrassingly emotional," Merlin says then with a new breath, swallowing down the tight feeling that was making itself detectible in his throat," I have some presents for you."

He sits the young ones down on the couch and sprints for his room, only to emerge with his hands full of folders and papers, all of which he then promptly drops down on the desk in front of the couple. (It was a fully intended move on his part; he wasn't tripping in his own feet again like Bonnie says he did.)

"There," Merlin says, grinning down at the others like Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. "It's my wedding present for you. A bit belated, I know, but I was holding it back for the right time."

Eugene's the first one to move. He picks up the heavy folder that's on the top of the pile and curiously flips through the documents inside. Merlin can see the exact moment realization hits him.

"Merlin, are these…?"

"Yup!"

"What? What are these?" Bonnie demands, and she quickly snatches the papers away from her spouse's hands. After hastily reading through them, her eyes widen and she nearly drops the folder down from her lap. "Christ, Merlin! You have… You've transferred the deed to the house… to _us_?!"

"Sure!" Merlin confirms, grinning. "It's all yours now, with all goods inside, including the piano, the television set and the radio. Just like the car and the contents of my bank account."

"_What?_" Bonnie shrieks in disbelief.

"Oh, and you should probably know that I put some handy warding charms around the house. Nothing fancy, you don't want to draw attention to yourselves, but believe me, no burglar can get past my spells. In any case, an alarm will let you know about any failure-doomed attempt at a break-in."

"You can't be serious," Bonnie says at the same time as Eugene starts a flabbergasted, "Merlin, we appreciate your kindness, but we really can't accept your–

"Oh, shut it, both of you!" When they do (hey, maybe he should snap like this more often), Merlin states it as calmly and slowly as he can manage, "I didn't do it to make you feel indebted, pitied or whatever. It's simply my present for you as a big brother who can go without this much. Really, I don't need any of these. In all my life, I've always moved on with only so much money that would be enough for a ride or a train or something. But you, kids, you _need_ this so you can start your new life together. I don't want you the have need for anything I can give you right now. I won't make you lucky with magic, you know, I won't help you manage your work or gather up your assets and possessions. You have to make your own fortune. But I _will _give you all you need for the start, and that's something I'm not willing to have an argument about. Is that clear?"

When (after a few weak attempts at kindly rejecting his presents) they finally admit defeat and Merlin can collect a nod from the both of them, the warlock pulls another paper out and hands it to Bonnie.

He can see the confusion on her face. That's just an empty piece of paper, no text, no doodle, no anything.

"I charmed it," Merlin says finally, when he can't keep the smile away from his face anymore. "Whenever I write you a letter, it will appear on this immediately and vice versa; you can always write to me through this. I thought it'll be good deal faster than waiting for posts."

He's not even finished with his explanation when Bonnie springs up from the coach and throws her arms around Merlin once again, this time with so much force that Merlin nearly ends up lying with his back on the floor.

"Thank you," she whispers into his ear, voice tight from emotions. "I'll miss you so much."

"I bet," Merlin says with a wide grin, and because he feels light and relieved and happy, he cheerfully adds, "Just so you won't forget it: I'm coming home for Easter, and I want a whole lot of chocolate eggs!"

They all laugh, and the fleeting thought of _'Me, too; I will really miss this'_ runs through Merlin's head.


	4. All these thread, he cherishes, always

4.

All these threads, he cherishes, always

.

As far as Merlin remembers, creating new personas wasn't this much of a pain in the arse before. It wasn't compulsory to have documents to prove your identity but _now_… Gods, it's so _difficult, _getting all those cards and docs pretty and perfect. And lets not even mention the insane amount of work that finishing a persona off desires. (Because people nowadays surely can't just _disappear _without a trace!)

He can manage, of course (the great Emrys won't get beaten by a few stupid cards, anyway), so when he starts renting an apartment in Saint Paul, Minnesota, he's officially Brian M. Johnson (gross name, at least for him, but he wants to try something _American_), twenty-eight years old (last year Russell's age finally reached his own physical age, so Merlin hasn't used a glamour ever since then – and now that he's left home, he doesn't have to start using it again and being free this way feels _great_), currently unemployed (yeah, it's quite… uh, but it's not like he came here to work, even if he does get himself a temporary job here and there from time to time).

He spends his time travelling through the States, never staying in one for more than two or three months at most. He just talks to people, explores sights, tries out new things and, really, generally behaves like a long-term tourist. He always rents cheap fla– no, _apartments_, and never buys anything that isn't absolutely necessary – but even those that are necessary, he usually leaves behind (sells or simply gives it to someone) and obtains a new one later at the next place he stays.

The only exception is his coral red Volkswagen Beetle, which he loves to bits and pieces (and secretly christens Weebee, which is funny because Merlin is not even a Christian), and never, ever parts from it. (Quite literally: whenever he goes back to Ireland, he shrinks it to the size of a toy car so he can take it with himself and doesn't have to leave it to the mercy of the residents of Whatevervill where he last stayed at.)

There are a lot of things Merlin has to get used to again, some of them being completely alone to himself; inventing newer and newer backstories for himself; living in large and busy cities (London was the last one, and he'd left that with Bonnie eleven years ago after all); and not using his magic in the carefree way he could afford it back at home.

All in all, he knows it's good that he left for the US. Never once in the last fourteen and a half hundred years has the world changed so much as it does in this century. If Merlin's stuck here for a god knows how long a time, he want to explore it to the best of his abilities, see where mankind ends up. And what he told Bonnie was the absolute truth: never before was he so happy and content while journeying because now he's got something that he never had before – a place and people within to whom he can return to, knowing that they'll welcome him. That's so much of a gem to him that sometimes Merlin feels like he could survive on this knowledge alone. And speaking about Bonnie, she really didn't need Merlin to linger around her anymore. After the few initial months, she settled into life with her husband, and Merlin can see that they are happy together. He wouldn't want to intrude on them. It's enough that he goes home to Ferns in every third or fourth month, just like he'd promised, and they change letters via his magical writing-paper twice a week.

He turns on Weebee's radio as he drives along U. S. Route 66 for Los Angeles, and Raven's _Count Every Star_ starts playing softly in the background.

_Count every star in the midnight sky  
Count every rose, every firefly_

_For that's how many times I miss you  
Oh, Heaven knows I miss you…_

* * *

One night, Merlin wakes up to the distinct feeling that something important has happened. He hasn't the faintest idea what makes him think that, because it's not magic and neither a seer-like prophetic dream – a sixth sense, maybe? Anyway, after a drowsy glance at the clock (three-thirty ante meridiem, dammit) Merlin tries to argue with his silly body to stop trying to wake him and go the fuck back to sleep because whatever seems to be happening at arse o'clock in the morning can surely wait… but the odd tingling beneath his skin begs to differ.

So after five minutes of failed attempts at forcing his mind back to dreamland, Merlin admits defeat and slowly gets out of the warm bed. Behind him, Jay frowns and mumbles something incomprehensible into the pillows that sounds rather like a curse, and pulls the thick cocoon of blankets higher up on his body.

Merlin puts on his bathrobe (because nights are really quite chilly in Toronto at wintertime), slips into the fluffy slippers he never wears when someone might see him (because they're rather embarrassing, even though he _adores_ them because they keep his feet oh so warm) and staggers into the kitchen to make some hot cocoa. (Again, he is aware that it is highly embarrassing, but he can't help it: when Bonnie was still a child, whenever she woke up at night Merlin made him hot cocoa to help her sleep back, and she always demanded that he drank with her and… well, he got used to it, okay?!) Half-sleeping already, he makes his way in the darkness to the toilet, and after what feel like two to fifteen minutes, he startles out of sleep when his head hits the tiles in a highly painful way.

Cursing restlessly, Merlin swallows back his yawn and heads back to his room to see if he can manage a few more hours of sleep, when his sight accidentally gets caught on the piece of note-paper which is pinned to the living room table by an unwashed cup. The same note-paper Merlin uses to change letters with Bonnie and Eugene. The same note-paper on which there should be a long text about Eugene's promotion and the new family member, Sparky (a lovely German Shepherd Bonnie got from a friend), but instead there is only one line, only one tiny little line.

Merlin walks to the desk and lifts up the paper. It's so dark that he can barely make out the letters, but when he's about to walk to the switch the lamp abruptly flickers into life. Well, instinctive magic does make life easier.

Merlin reads the new letter and he's finished with it in such a short blink of a time that its meaning just flies through his head. So he reads it again. And again.

_Dear Uncle, I'm arriving in five months. Get ready!_

"What the…" Merlin mutters, mouthing the words of the letter and trying to comprehend them. It is way too early indeed, because he can't seem to do it for his life.

He could recognise Bonnie's handwriting anywhere, but instead of the usually round, pretty letters, they're noticeable scratchier and smaller now, like her hands were shaking (from excitement?) as she wrote them.

Is this her way of saying that she'll come and visit him in five months? That would be more than fine by Merlin, he hasn't seen her in a while after all, but she doesn't even know where he is residing now and besides, she can't really afford a ticket to here. And what's with the "Uncle"? He's used to Bonnie's silly ways, but that's not the same kind of moniker she usually calls him with so it's hard to detect the hidden joke. It's not like Merlin is an _actual_ uncle, after all; he won't be that for a while, so long as Bonnie and Eugene don't…

The paper falls from his hands, and he grabs for the desk so hard that the cup tumbles, rolls down and breaks into tiny pieces on the ground with a loud crash. Merlin however doesn't hear any of it.

Oh, dear gods!

* * *

Ralph Jackson Turner is born exactly at 05:24 a. m. on 16th of June, 1953.

"Oh my god, he's so tiny," Merlin breathes in awe for what must be the twentieth time since he first laid eyes on little Ralph. "It's been so long since I've seen a new born baby, I totally forgot about how teeny-weeny they are. Gods, he's a small one!"

"Yes, Merlin," Bonnie sighs, "we understand that my son is tiny. But thank you for the constant reminding."

For all her false irritation, the gentle smile hasn't quite left her face and the pretty pink flush (that has been blossoming on her cheeks constantly for five days, Eugene whispers to Merlin, ever since she first touched her baby) shows without a doubt just how very happy she is.

"Don't listen to them," Helen purrs lovingly to the sleeping baby in her arms. "You will grow up to be a tall and fine man just like your father is."

"Actually, I was quite short to my age up until I turned sixteen," Eugene says with a laugh while he wraps his arms around his wife. "Boys picked on me because of my height rather often. And the spectacles. One cannot forget about those."

"They could pick on you only because you let them," Helen counters. "You were always too kind for your own good, son."

Eugene shrugs, and for a few moments nobody does anything else besides smiling at each other until Ralph yawns, opens hid pale blue eyes and starts whimpering in a rapidly loudening volume.

"My grandson is hungry," Helen observes with a chuckle as she carefully lifts the baby up, Bonnie already reaching for him with a soft look on her face.

"I'll go feed him. I know you lot are feeling hungry as well, I suggest making something for lunch."

"I vote for Italian!" Merlin chirps in cheerfully.

Bonnie rolls her eyes before disappearing into the parental bedroom and Eugene chuckles; Helen however stands up from the armchair and rubs her hands together. "I believe we have every ingredient required for lasagne. Will that be alright, Merlin?"

He gives the woman his widest grin. "Perfect."

Merlin follows Helen to the kitchen where they soon ease themselves into preparing food and chatting excitedly about the newest member of the family. Merlin doesn't really like cooking – somehow he tends to mess up the recipes and more often than not ends up with something only vaguely resembling the original goal (but with simpler dishes, he's fine; he had managed to feed himself and Bonnie for quite a time, after all) –, but it's either this or hovering around Bonnie… and the latter is not really an option because as sweet as he finds the suckling baby, the sight of a breastfeeding Bonnie is, as he soon finds out, something that he hasn't quite managed to prepare himself for during the long months of her pregnancy.

When Merlin, at his clumsiest best, knocks a glass of vinegar over and quickly extends his hand to stop the acrid liquid flooding the kitchen floor, he blinks up worriedly at the woman standing next to him, and is relieved beyond words to see that the surprise quickly leaves her face to be replaced by an amused smile.

"Oh, that's quite a useful thing, isn't that right? If you are at it, sweetheart, put that vinegar back into its glass, would you? I have just bought it yesterday."

Merlin breaks into a grin, and does as he's told.

It still catches him by surprise, how comfortable everyone in this family seems to be with his magic (hell, his _identity!_), but it's a good feeling – a fantastic one, especially because this is the first time in his _entire life_ that he don't have to hide who he is, the first time he is free to do as he pleases, knowing that no one will judge him if he's caught pulling the blankets up with magic or cleaning up the remains of a broken plate with a wave of his hand. Not even Helen, who's still relatively new to the whole thing, seeing as she was let into the Turner-Previously-Bennett Family Secret only in this spring, around the time they finalised that she's moving in with the youths to be able to help Bonnie during and after her pregnancy. As Eugene now works more now because of his promotion (and that has come at the right time because there's more mouths now to feed), it was a really great idea but one that demanded Merlin to let her in, too.

It wasn't a sudden decision: Eugene wanted to tell her since a long time, even though he never said that aloud (and he really didn't have to; it was enough to see how he cringed and his face pulled into a grimace whenever Helen called Merlin "Russell"), and now they've finally did it, all three of them can feel the relief. Helen was told only the most significant issues (immortal, magic, damn powerful – that last bit was added by Bonnie), so she has even vaguer ideas about the rest than Eugene, but Bonnie (the only person Merlin has let into _everything_) helped her understand that talking about his past is very painful to Merlin, and after that, Helen let it go.

Now Merlin can feel the love of a family, and that's something that he hasn't experienced since Hunith and Gaius. No matter what kind of appearance he takes on for the rest of the world, no matter how he's still – the very much aging, thank you – Russell Bennett for the rest of Ferns, at home, he can always be just himself: Merlin, magical Methuselah (actually, Merlin beat him in being the oldest person ever to live, but that's not really important) trapped in a twenty-eight years old body that is still as clumsy as it was a millennium ago. And the Turners don't turn on him for that.

Sometimes, when he thinks about what would have happened had he not met Bonnie and decided to take her under his wings, Merlin can hardly breathe.

* * *

It's amazing how fast children grow up. It seems like as if it was just yesterday that Merlin made little Ralph laugh loudly for the first time by floating colourful origami cranes above his head, and now he's standing up, and now he's taking his very first steps, and now he's – OH! – running and jumping onto Merlin's lap with joyful shouts and ear-wide grins.

"Uncle Me'lin!"

"Why, if it isn't my not-so-little nephew! Honestly, Ralphie, what does your mother cook for you that make you grow so fast?"

"Nana cooked me cake!"

"Baked," Merlin corrects automatically, and then puts his shy-sized suitcase down so he can gather the child up into his arms. "Come on, then, let's go inside so I can greet the others, too, and see if they've left some of that cake for me."

He let the others know about the time of his arrival, yet they behave like it's a completely unexpected but a much adored Christmas present. Merlin kisses Helen's cheek and squeezes Eugene's hand, but as soon as he hugs Bonnie, he jumps back in surprise and looks down at her flat belly.

"Oh," he breathes before a wide grin finds its way onto his face. "Is it too early to congratulate yet?"

Bonnie's smile drops, and she knits her brows. "What for?"

If possible, Merlin's grin widens. "Too early, then." He can't resist a final glance down, though, and maybe he shouldn't have done so because he can see it from the corner of his eyes that Eugene follows his gaze… and the way his jaw suddenly drops suggests that he has made the connection.

"A-are you sure?" Eugene asks hesitantly, eyes never leaving Bonnie's belly. "You can… you can sense it, or something?"

The young woman rotates her gaze between the two of them, trying to catch on, while Ralph makes cheerful noises and crawls from Merlin's lap to his mother's.

"Er, yeah," Merlin nods, biting on his lip so it won't curl back into a smile. "Something like that.

"Would it kill you two to tell me what are you talking about?" Bonnie snaps finally.

Merlin can't fight the smile that threatens to split his face apart anymore. He puts his hand on Bonnie's belly, gently, like the touch of a butterfly, and closes his eyes as soon as he feels the warm, fluttering life inside, tiny and fragile, yet strong and brilliant like a miniature of a star.

When he next opens his eyes and sees the bewildered look and the deep blush that creeps higher and higher up on Bonnie face, Merlin smiles. "I hope you haven't thrown out Ralphie's baby clothes."

* * *

Raymond Roger Turner is born at 07:16 a. m. on 30th of August, 1957.

Ralph says that his baby brother is too pink, too wrinkled and far too sleepy for his liking.

Later that evening, the adults find him snuggled close to the baby, holding his tiny little hands as they both sleep soundly. The sight is so utterly adorable that Helen rushes for the camera and takes the very first picture of the siblings while giggling constantly.

* * *

Merlin has always had this weird hypothesis about the varying speed of elapsed time.

Long ago, decades seemed to fly past him like years for normal mortals; for Merlin, a few months seemed nothing more than a blink of time. He has often thought about different religions back then, wondering whether whatever god or gods were there felt the same as he did whenever they had to watch over the fleeting lives of humans. Merlin hasn't been present for an eternity like deities, but the nearly one and a half thousand years he has got behind him has surely cracked him up.

After Aithusa died, this_ thing_ seemed to reverse itself. Time seemed to drag on forever, days slipping by at a snail's pace, making Merlin feel like being trapped in a slow-motion universe where there was no escape from the impossible tardiness of the world surrounding him.

Now, however, _finally... _everything seems to be moving in the speed they're supposed to.

The next near-twenty years are the most memorable ones Merlin has experienced in a long time. At first, he continues moving around and exploring the American continent and works as a temporary shop assistant, volunteers at various – mostly health – organizations, performs on streets as a musician, a puppeteer and a magician (those are a lot of fun), and one time he also joins a travelling theatre for a year and a half.

Like usual, he goes back to Ireland in every third of fourth month and spends one or two, or sometimes even three weeks with the Turner family, becoming Russell Bennett once again for those who live there and know them. The cake shop he used to work at has been shut down, but he still meets up with Archie and the others from time to time. However, he tries to spend most of his time with his family.

The kids adore their Uncle Merlin. They grow up with magic having a constant presence in the house, every adult family member agreeing on that it's not something shameful or freaky that Merlin should hide. Yet until the kids are very young, they are led to believe that the small charms Merlin does for them are nothing more than magical tricks, so they won't accidentally slip and talk to neighbours about how flying, talking and singing toys are a common occurrence in the Turner household. (Also, they are told that "Merlin" is just the nickname of their Uncle Russell for the simple reason that everyone in Ferns knows that Bonnie's older brother sometimes works as a magician and illusionist. This way, no one really suspects anything.)

Sparky is the only one under the age of ten who seems the know the complete truth about him (though Merlin admits that he might have given himself away by always conjuring up bones and steaks and other yummies out of thin air whenever he was around Sparky, and surely even a dog can sense it when magic is so constantly used in front of its nose), but however sad it is, Sparky passes away on a cold winter night nine years after Bonnie receives her. (As a matter of fact, that's EXACTLY the reason why Merlin never bothers with pets. He had more than enough trouble coming to terms with losing people whose entire life flies away in generally four to eight decades, so what should he expect from pets the lifespan of which only consists of ten plus-minus-three years at best?!)

When Ralph turns ten, his parents and Merlin sit down with him and tells him the truth about Merlin being a real sorcerer (or wizard, as people nowadays seem to prefer saying), putting much stress on how this is the biggest secret this family has to keep and protect, for they are protecting Merlin with it. Ralph has always been a dutiful and serious child, far more mature than his peers (an attribute coming from being the eldest, Merlin suspects), and he doesn't seem particularly surprised by the revelation. He solemnly promises to keep the secret, and Merlin doesn't doubt his words. Ralph resembles his mother in more than one way, and if she could keep it at the age of seven, surely, it won't be a problem for him at ten?

When Ray reaches his tenth birthday, he also learns Merlin's true identity. He takes the news in a much more excited way than his brother: he jumps in the armchair and asks what feels like billions of questions, shouting and grinning and hugging Merlin like a flustered energy ball. Merlin catches Bonnie sharing a worried look with Eugene; they fear that although Ray would never mean to do anything bad intentionally, maybe he won't be able to keep his mouth shut and slip something about Merlin to his classmates. It's Merlin who has to calm them down by saying that if anything ever goes wrong he won't hesitate using his power to gain back his grounding. Despite this, he hopes that he will never be forced to live to his words.

Years come and pass, and the boys grow up to be quite different in the end. They are very close to each other while they're both smaller, but as with the passing time their differences become apparent, they start to drift apart.

As Ralph grows, it becomes clear that he's somewhere halfway to sharing both of his parents' appearances. Even when he just hits puberty, he's tall but very slender, with narrow face and pointy chins, small nose, auburn hair and dark brown eyes. His eyesight is quite bad, so he gets a pair of glasses at the mere age of nine. He's quiet and reserved; at school, he prefers reading books and solving various mathematical problems as a way of spending his free-time rather than playing group games outside with his classmates. He has friends, though, albeit similarly geeky ones. He makes his parents proud, though, with always being top of his class.

In a lot of ways, Ray grows up to be the complete opposite of his older brother. He takes after his paternal grandfather, having a slightly stronger built than the rest of his family, oval face, bright green eyes and very dark chestnut hair. He's cheerful and loud, always wanting to be in the centre of attention but never becoming arrogant. Thanks to his likable and friendly personality, he gains lots and lots of friends, especially among his football teammates. He plays various sports from a fairly early age so he can let out his energies in a useful and enjoyable way, and Ray _loves_ it. At the age of eight, he already claims that he will be a sportsman who will win a few Olympic gold medals, or maybe a professional footballer, or maybe just an average P.E. teacher that kids adore everywhere.

Ray is also very protective of his friends. There is this girl, Sophie Thompson, with whom he has been in the same class since nursery. One day, his form teacher calls Bonnie and Eugene in because Ray fought with one of his classmates. The reason, as it is later revealed, was that the guy mocked Sophie with calling her a "fat pig" until she cried and hid in the lady's toilet.

"He was a git!" Ray shouts with his face beet red, arms crossed fiercely across his small chest when his parents question him later at home. "She's not even fat, she's just– just a bit chubby, that's all! And anyway, she's a really nice girl, so who cares about what that stupid Mitch says?!"

Bonnie can't really stop smiling and stay angry with him after that declaration.

Ralph never gets into trouble; he's and exemplary student and an obedient son. Bonnie and Eugene are careful never to ask Ray the much hated "Why can't you be more like your brother?" question, but perhaps it's still there somehow, lingering unseen in the air, because whenever Ray gets a bad grade (which are not _that _bad, mind you, he's solid in his knowledge, only he doesn't invest as much practise into learning as Ralph does), he immediately points sharp bitter looks at his older brother, who in turn scoffs and shrugs and marches off to his bedroom.

Still, they are fairly good siblings. They rarely fight, they help each other, and save for when one of them having a period of sulking, they get on well despite the difference in their ages.

Until... well, until lightning comes down with Ralph turning fourteen and officially entering the dangerous middle section of adolescence.

* * *

It probably starts with Ralph developing a deep crush for the beauty of the class, a certain Jessica Wright. Merlin only sees her once (and that one time doesn't really count, either, because it was only in a class photograph), but he can see it instantly that she's not the type of girl Ralph should go for; slender, dark blond, with a highly pre-matured body and a facial expression showing that she's well aware of it. The first time Ralph tries to talk to her, she laugh at him, calls him a four-eyed geek and shoves at him so hard that the poor guy nearly falls into the bin.

One would think that's enough show of her personality to make him give up, but no. Ralph suddenly decides that he wants to be popular so he can win her over.

He starts to hang out with lousy, popular kids who abuse school desks and steal pints from their father's drink stocks. When one day Ralph come home smelling of smoke, Bonnie turns ashen and has a long talk with her son.

"I haven't even smoked one!," Ralph shouts then, leaving Merlin (he tries coming home more often now that he knows that there are problems with Ralph, so he's back in Ferns again this time) completely shocked because he never, ever heard the boy raise his voice, let alone while talking to his mother. "I just stood there while they did it, so why are you telling me off?"

"Because they are bad for you, Ralph! Why can't you see that? Those boys are trouble-makers, everyone knows it. You are better than them!"

"They're not bad for me! My grades are the same, I'm still the top of the class, so why can't you just leave me alone! I can decide for myself who I want to be friends with!"

Bonnie lets out a long sigh. "They're bad influence, and I don't want their kind to hang around you. I don't understand why you don't spend time with your old friends anymore. I'm sure they miss you."

Ralph looks pointedly down and mumbles something under his breath.

"What did you say?"

Ralph remains silent.

"They aren't real friends, you know, Mum," Ray chirps in from the living room where he's currently playing cards with Merlin. "They just hang around Ralph because he lets them copy his homework and writes the assignments for them."

Ralph pales and gapes at his brother. "How do you even…"

"Margaret told Sophie," Ray says with a shrug. (Margaret is the older sister of Ray's friend Sophie, and is a classmate of Ralph.) "She also said that you swore in front of a teacher."

Ralph does swear then, though Merlin is sure that he doesn't mean to, and Bonnie's colour turns from pale-ish to literally _angry red_. "Go to your room, Ralph. There is no television for you today, and if I hear that you let anyone copy your homework again or you wrote assignments for others, I will personally talk to your teachers. And don't think that we're finished with this talk!"

Ralph marches off to his room and shuts the door close. Bonnie lets out a long sigh and all but collapses onto the armchair next to Merlin and Ray.

"Don't worry, he'll grow out of this," Merlin says quietly to her. "He'll understand."

"I hope so," she whispers back.

Things seem to get better after that, a bit. The tatty brats are never seen around Ralph anymore, and his teachers said that they don't interact in school, either. Ralph's oddly rough attitude however does not disappear, and lately there's more problem with him than with his younger brother. He doesn't find his place in the class; he tries to prevent to be classified as a dull geek, but neither does he go for the trouble-makers. And he still pines over Jessica.

Merlin knows that Eugene and Bonnie have to deal with this, not him or Helen, so a week after a smoking incident, he goes back to America.

Months pass without much happening, until the final crack happens next autumn.

Merlin is residing in Acapulco, either sunbathing in the hot sand of La Bonfil beach or working on his Spanish with an extremely fit Mexican guy who seems determined to work with Merlin on _other _things as well under the pretence of teaching him the tricks of surfing. When he goes back to the hotel later that day with the firm decision to head straight for the shower (because he'll go crazy if he has to bear even one more second with that gritty sand stuck between his arse-cheeks), he stops dead on his tracks when he discovers the new, hastily scrawled message that has appeared on the note-paper Merlin pinned to his fridge.

_COME HOME ASAP_

Merlin does. For he doesn't know what the matter is but sensing that something must be terribly wrong, he doesn't even wait for an airplane or something. He just collects his few belongings, gathers his suitcase and with his eyes closing, thinks about home…

… and when he next opens them, there he is. Right in the hallway.

He should feel wobbly at least, he suspect, maybe having a headache or a heavy intake of breath, but… absolutely nothing. It's like he hasn't just crossed half the planet within a blink of time! Okay, so maybe he teleported before (that night with Kenneth Brown Jr. was quite a memorable one), but never this much of a distance. _And it still doesn't feel any more complicated than lighting a candle._

Eugene spots him at first, and the stunned expression he regards Merlin with suggests that the same thoughts are running over in his head, too… but then his face darkens.

"You have to visit these two boys, Merlin," he says in a dreadfully serious tone while handing a small piece of paper to Merlin. The warlock glances down at the names and addresses written hastily down on them. "Ralph has… He has shown them the star atlas you gave him last Christmas. I reckon he has also…" Eugene can't quite get himself to say it, looking all embarrassed in behalf of his son, and Merlin has to swallow back a curse.

That atlas is charmed so that whenever Ralph outlines the Moon on the first page with his finger, the illustrations emerge from and start floating above the book, displaying the construction of constellations true to life. (He often gave magical gifts to the boys, knowing they were always thrilled by it.) Merlin specifically chose that present for Ralph because he knew how interested he is in Astronomy, though he gave it strictly to home use only.

And now_ this_ happens. All along, they worried that Ray might slip something by accident and now… now Ralph – always dutiful, always reliable Ralph – spills the beans _on purpose._

Merlin pays a short visit to the concerned boys and has a few not entirely unkind words with them. (Not like they remember any of it after…) He then goes back to the Turner's to find Bonnie and Eugene standing in the centre of Ralph's room, the boy himself sitting on his bed in the apparent attempt of staring a hole into the floor. Merlin doesn't go inside to join them – he doesn't know what to do. They always feared this situation … He doesn't known how he should behave.

In the end he pushes his back against the wall beside the room door and remains silent as he listens to the talk inside.

"…–show the magical side of that atlas to them, was it? Then _why_ did you? You know it very well that protecting Merlin's secret is the single most important duty of this family!"

"And why is that? It's not like he's our relative for real! He just clashed into our family, and now shows up for birthdays and holidays, but…"

Merlin is so busy tensing up with his whole body that he doesn't even shudder upon hearing the unmistakable sound of a slap. Dead silence follows the noise, which is broken by Eugene after a few moments.

"Blood alone does not make someone family, and Merlin is a much loved member of ours. I _know_ that you would have agreed on this a year ago, and it is only this new troubled situation with your friends and being a teenager that is speaking, but Ralph Jackson, that's not excuse. I'm deeply ashamed you could even think of such things, let alone say them out loud!"

There's a noise again, probably Ralph standing up from the bed and starting to stroll.

"Why?!" he shouts, frustrated. "You have no idea what I have to bear with in school, Dad! If you aren't a friend of Rick, they bully you and no one speaks to you. I'm not popular like Ray, I can't get friends in other ways! And Rick, he is always bragging about how his brother is in America, doing some serious job, not _begging on streets,_ and he always sends cool things to him. And I said that my uncle is in America, too, but no one believed me because they see how often he's at home and they say it's not possible for someone so shaggy-looking to spend this much on travelling… And they said that he looks so queer like that guy from the neighbourhood, who's changed schools last month and… and… You know how he's like! I didn't want him to start saying those mean things to me too, so I told them that Merlin can do spe–special things, interesting things, so Rick won't–

"Won't what?" Bonnie interrupts, her voice trembling from barely supressed anger. "Won't say mean things about Merlin or won't dismiss you anymore?" There is a moment of silence, and then Bonnie proceeds, "You know what I think, Ralph? I think that you only thought about yourself. Your only goal was that you can show Merlin off to Rick in the hope that he will accept you as a friend and makes you popular. For that Jessica!"

"It's not about her! Don't you see how it is?! It's always magic this and magic that at home whenever he's here, and then at school I have to pretend like those things are not even real, and it's horrible! I–"

"I have been keeping his secret since I was _seven_, Ralph!," Bonnie shouts, and Merlin feels even more terrible because he never heard Bonnie shout, either. What has he done to this family? "Seven! Not fifteen like you, yet I understood the significance of what I'm keeping for him!"

"But you didn't know that he's the _real _Merlin back then!"

"_It doesn't change a thing!"_ Bonnie thunders. There's a moment of silence, and then, "Who he is, or more precisely, who he was in the past doesn't change _anything._ We know him and love him – that is all that matters. You should think it through, Ralph, whether it's worth shoving your loving uncle away for a bunch of bullies and one pretty, arrogant girl."

There are some noises, thumping sounds, and then the adults leave Ralph's room and the boy shuts it close instantly.

They both release a deep sigh. Eugene squeezes Bonnie's hand before leaving to search for Ray and Helen, and Bonnie slowly walks to Merlin and stands right in front of him. Merlin doesn't move; he stays still by the wall with his head bowed, hands trying to get a grip on the wall, never raising his eyes so he can avoid Bonnie's questioning gaze.

"Merlin..."

"I'm sorry," he says suddenly, not wanting to hear what Bonnie has to say.

What if she blames him for the fight? He never realized how much pressure he had put on the kids. With Bonnie, it never seemed problematic and the boys have always loved him – it has never occurred to Merlin that perhaps it's harder for them than how they let it on. How long has this been going on? How long has Ralph felt like this, annoyed for having to keep such a serious secret, harassed and bullied for the way Merlin is...? Shame and guilt grip at his heart with leaden claws and make his tongue feel heavy and gross inside his mouth.

When he feels a soft touch on his cheek, he shudders involuntary.

"You haven't done anything wrong," Bonnie whispers to him with so much confidence that it leaves Merlin more than a bit breathless.

"I should have noticed something," he says quietly, still too ashamed to meet her eyes. "I should have noticed how much pressure I've put on him. I never wanted anything like this to happen, yet–"

"Merlin," Bonnie interrupts fiercely, now cupping Merlin's face with both of her hands so he can't really avoid looking up at her, and it's as if Merlin sees her for what she is today the first time: thirty-five, a mother of two, and still the kindest woman Merlin has ever had the pleasure of knowing. She's nothing like the sweet little girl Merlin had first taken in or even the beaming young woman he lead to the altar, yet there is something familiar, something old... something that will never change.

"Merlin, I meant what I said. You have done _nothing_ wrong, so don't let this eat you up! Ralph is a teenager... He might say terrible things now, but in the end he'll come round and understand why we do what we do. You _know_ he loves you, he always did – he's just confused." She bites on her lip for a fleeting moment before caressing Merlin's face. "I'm not justifying his actions or words, just... please be patient with him. I have no doubt that eventually he will regret saying those things."

Eventually... Yeah, so should he just pray that the family won't fall apart because of him before that time? That won't do. That won't do _at all._

Merlin takes in a deep breath, and for a fleeting moment he leans into the gentle curve of Bonnie's palm on his face, trying to gather whatever comfort he can find in it.

"I presume," Bonnie starts tentatively, like she hates bringing up the topic, "that you have taken care of Martin and Rick?"

The warlock wants to close his eyes again, but he has no inclination to see the boy's fearful expression in front of himself again, so he chooses not to. Just like he does his damn best to not think about how they shouted when they saw him, how they shouted "Stay away from me, wizard!" and "Don't you dare putting a spell on me!" and "Jesus fucking _Christ,_ his eyes...!" and a trembling "Please don't kill me, I won't tell anyone, I swear!"... A humourless chuckle escapes his lips, and when he looks up, he sees Bonnie watching him worriedly.

"Yes," he answers at last, and it takes him by surprise how dark and tired his voice sounds. "I've taken care of them."

Bonnie doesn't say "good" or "okay". She only nods, understanding without needing to have it spelled out just how much it pained Merlin that he had to use his magic against kids in this way.

"Do you think..." Merlin halts, and clears his throat in a pitiful attempt at getting rid of the roughness of his voice. "Do you think I should talk with him?"

The woman doesn't answer immediately. "I think you should," she says finally, "but not now. Let him think it through. And... you need to calm down, too. You look like a ghost."

And that's just it – Merlin _feels like_ a ghost. Where has the happy family from last year disappeared to? Bonnie is sad and dejected, Eugene is sad and restless, Ralph is angry and hot-headed, Ray doesn't understand why everyone is so tense and Helen tries her best hiding her worry.

Up till now Merlin had never felt anything but welcomed and loved within these walls. Now, he feels like drowning, and it's terrible, like Camelot being taken away from him again – so far, he never let a place and its habitants grow this close to his heart, and because he let that happen this time, he now gets the first taste of what it would be like to lose this home. Happiness slips from his fingers like the hot sand of Acapulco bay, and he can't make a grab for it out of the flaming guilt that burns his chest from the inside out.

He doesn't get a wink of sleep that night.

Dawn finds him on an airplane, flying to... well, to be honest, Merlin doesn't exactly know. But it doesn't matter anyway.

* * *

Despite Bonnie's initially optimistic ideas, the issue remains unsolved for many years to come.

Ralph eventually cuts his connection with Rick and his gang but does not renew his friendship with his former friends either, deciding to stay mostly alone and concentrate solely on his studies. Eugene and Bonnie talk with his teachers about the bullying, and fortunately, the matter gradually solves itself. Ralph does not speak about the incident, and glares deadly to those who try to bring it up, but it's crystal clear that it has affected him greatly. It's not until he's a high-schooler that he starts hanging with others after hours again, that he takes an interest in someone from the opposite sex, and to his parents relief, he chooses all of that carefully now. He doesn't want to join lousy popular kids' circles anymore and spends time with kids with whom he actually has things in common.

His relationship with Merlin, however, never heals so much that it could be like how it was in his youth. He eventually apologizes to Merlin when the warlock next goes back to Fern four months later, but it feels half-hearted and pressed, and after that, it becomes more and more apparent how they're not able to go back to the way they were before. Ralph now never seems particularly happy or existed during Merlin's visits, and he especially has a wry face whenever Merlin does something obviously magical, so Merlin stops bringing the boy magical presents. It's like as if the whole sorcerer-thing has become a sour spot for Ralph, one to which he is constantly reminded of with Merlin's person. It's not a visible fight; Ralph never does or says anything inappropriate to Merlin, but his feelings are evident in the way his eyes narrow when he sees the warlock, in the way his hand never linger long when they shake hands, in the way he never speaks to Merlin more than what is absolutely necessary.

It pains Merlin to no end, especially because he sees how the others are all too well aware, hurt because they can't do anything to make it right.

Maybe he's a coward, or maybe he just doesn't want to be the cause of more distress in the family, but it's an undeniable fact that he only ever goes home for Christmas and Easter after that. Ray always complains about that; nowadays, he writes his own letters to Merlin, and in each and every one of them he expresses his desire to kick his brother's arse for driving his beloved uncle away.

_It was him who screwed it up, not you,_ he writes one time_, so you shouldn't stay away, come home as often as you did before! If he bothers you, just ignore him – he's always sulking like he's got a needle up in his arse anyway. Mum misses you greatly, just like me. Please don't let Retard Ralph get to you!_

Merlin is glad for the support he gets, but he doesn't want to act on it for the simple reason that Ralph is not exactly in the faults. He did wrong things, yeah, but it's not his fault that he feels the way he does. Merlin doesn't want to make him feel distressed.

In 1970 Merlin leaves America for the last time. After a visit to Ferns, he goes back to England and makes a short trip to Avalon (the place has changed an awfully lot in the past decades, with people getting close to it, making new roads close the lake and building bridges around it – but it's still Merlin's own sanctuary, one where he can drop down on the grass and open his heart, talk about everything that weighs heavily on his mind even though he suspects that no one really listens to him… It's a comforting thing to know that he is the only one who can see the Isle and the monument on it while everyone else can only see the excess of the lake, somehow) before moving on and going back to Europe once again. He travels to Asia after that, staying in Calcutta for a while, and later he goes even further to East, to Tibet. There, he finds what he never expected to meet anymore: people with magic.

He is in the Cuona district in the Tibet Autonomous Region of China, staying with a group of Monpa (or Menba, as the Chinese call this ethnic group). The Monpa are the first to recognise him as Emrys since the time Merlin has spent in Japan, though he supposes it's not that much of a surprise considering that their religion is quite intertwined (through Buddhism, mind you, not Shintoism). They are good-natured and welcoming of him, and Merlin enjoys his time with them, feeling an odd nostalgia upon living with people whose lives are centred on their monastery, just like how he once lived in a shrine complex with Subaru's family. The Monpa believe in the transmigration of souls, and the Lamas would often talk about the never-ending journeys one has to make throughout their several lives. Merlin takes comfort in those speeches; he closes his eyes and Aithusa's prophetic parting words came back to him like she was right there beside him, whispering softly into his ears.

There are shamans among them, some of which indeed has magic, albeit quite faintly. But it's still there, and that's something Merlin has never expected. It usually manifests in young boys who are then trained to the ways of shamans and after an initiation ceremony, may become Lamas to their monastery. It's nothing more than the ability to foresee and connect to the faint magic of natural beings, but it's undeniable there: they can feel the incredible amounts of magic inside Merlin, and they esteem him for it. They let him observe the shaman initiation ceremony: it is tradition that men can never hunt tigers (for the tiger is their main totem, their clan idol, and to popular belief the manifestation of a forest spirit) except on this special day when they use the tiger's jawbone as a magical weapon to enable the tigers to evoke the magical guiding spirit of their ancestor, who will then protect the trialled boy in life.

Merlin is not sure about ancestral tigers and guiding spirits, but he can't deny that he feels the surge of magic during the ceremony, even though he cannot identify it. There is something ancient, something familiar in it that makes his magic dance happily beneath his skin, and that's enough for him to deem it true.

When he leaves the Monpa people after a couple of years, Lha-mo (who is one of the two Dzongpons, which is the most respectable position a Lama can gain in the Monpa society, something like a governor) steps in front of Merlin and deeply bows his head. "Brace yourself for the dark times ahead, Emrys the Great. We will need your power and guidance to survive."

Merlin wants to ask about that 'dark times ahead' thing because hey, it's not the first time he hears it, but Lha-mo lift his open palm up as a way of silencing him before he could have even started speaking. The Dzongpon then reaches into the folds of his clothes and pulls out a small object.

"Please accept this as our farewell gift," he says while pushing the small wooden carving into Merlin's hands. "We hope that it will bring you good fortune."

Merlin observes the carving. The figurine looks like a falcon (maybe a Merlin, and wow, did they intend for the pun?), and it's all kind of shiny and beautiful, but you can't expect less from these people. The small, open-winged bird is a comfortable weight in Merlin's hand, and gives off a slightly vibrating, warm feeling that is not entirely unlike the faint magic that still lingers in Aithusa's scale. The warlock has no doubt that the Lamas blessed the figurine, and it seems to be working.

"Thank you," he says to Lha-mo. "I'll treasure it."

He leaves their village after that, and goes further into China. The country is enormous, but he doesn't dwell anywhere for long; he wanders south more and more, getting acquainted with Burma, Thailand, Malaysia and finally, bits and parts of Indonesia. He stays in Jakarta for eight months before buying a plane ticket back to Ireland.

He's planning on spending a week or two in Ferns, and then going back to Japan after half a millennium, if just to see those grand changes to the country he knows about with his own eyes.

Little does he know that his travelling years are soon to reach an end.

* * *

The first thing Merlin notices upon entering the Turner house is that the scent coming from the kitchen is incredibly good.

The second (which he notes after going to the aforementioned kitchen to get wind of the situation) is that Linda's got a shockingly large belly. Like… an awfully large one. Enough to contain a… Oh.

Maybe a few words about the Turners would be in order.

Ralph had always had a good brain with science subjects, so it was never a question that it was what he wants to do in life. After finishing secondary school he moves to the United Kingdom and applies for Cambridge where he studies Mathematics and Physics simultaneously, meanwhile starting to date a certain Linda Green. They are nothing like the lovebirds Eugene and Bonnie were, but it's clear that they like each other very much. It's not a surprise that they decided to get married in 1974, after Ralph gets his bachelor degrees.

At this point, the old matter resurfaces when Bonnie first broaches the subject of telling Linda the "family secret". Ralph vehemently refuses, and it's only then that Merlin (who comes back to Ferns from Singapore, Malaysia that time) realizes just how deep the damage he has caused in Ralph is. He tries telling Bonnie that it's alright, that he can be "Russell" for Linda (it's not like they'd meet them often, seeing as how they live in England now) but she doesn't want to hear any of it, claiming that their family was never one to keep secrets from each other, and they won't start it now. Eugene, too, agrees with this, but it takes the old grandma Helen to convince Ralph.

Merlin was never so nervous about confessing than how he is now. It isn't harder than baring himself in front of Arthur or Bonnie, but it is decidedly more distressing because now he has to do it with Ralph standing right in front of him but purposefully not meeting his eyes, arms crossed meaningfully against his chest. Merlin is anxious and feels faintish, but Eugene and Bonnie help him through it. Linda takes it relatively well, somehow like Helen did back then, and they quickly agree without words on not mentioning it again unless out of absolute necessity. Her own family isn't initiated into the secret, however.

The wedding is held at summer. It's larger than the last Merlin attended, with more people yet it feels less joyful – but maybe it's only because Merlin feels out of place among them. He spends most of the time chatting with Ray and Sophie (who is certainly _not _Ray's girlfriend, what the heck is Merlin thinking for even _suggesting _that, while he knows that they're childhood best friends?! Or so the kids claim, but Merlin can see the way they look at each other when the other can't see it, and he thinks it's cute so he doesn't say anything) in one of the corners and only goes to dance floor three times – once with the bride, and later with Bonnie and Sophie.

Ray himself is doing quite well. He's currently working on getting his teacher's degree in Physical Education (he never grow out of the love of sports, in the end, and Merlin thinks that it's a good thing). Merlin doesn't fail to notice how fit he'd become: he's nowhere near as tall as his brother, but has an athlete's body with broad shoulders and strong yet not overly-muscular chest, and a warm smile that never seem to leave his face, so the kids will probably adore him in whatever school he gets to work for. After he finishes university, he wants to leave Ferns, too, and he's trying to convince his parents and grandmother to move with him. He dreams of buying a large family house somewhere in England – not in a busy city but in a peaceful town with good sporting opportunities. Bonnie has stated firmly before that she doesn't want to go anywhere near London (the painful childhood memories will apparently never go away), but she seems willing to move, even though she says it'll be strange and sad, leaving their current house behind.

Well, that's just a plan. For now, they stay in Ireland where Ralph and Linda visit them often just like Merlin does.

Like now, for example.

So, Linda has a large belly, and the way she blushes all the way to the roots of her lovely blond curls suggest that Merlin's not wrong with his assumptions.

"Oh," he says, and wow, isn't that the cleverest thing one can says to a pregnant acquaintance upon seeing her for the first time in half a year? "You look great, I mean... Congratulations! I had no idea!"

Linda blushes an even brighter shade of red. "Thank you. Well, we wanted to tell you in person, so..." She breaks off after a while, and Merlin doesn't have to be a genius to guess that it was Ralph who didn't want to let him know sooner. And why, that hurts quite bit. Because what did Ralph think, that Merlin will jinx her or something? If he really can even presume such a thing then the boy that loved Merlin is really long gone. And what if he hadn't come home know? Wouldn't have they told him even when the baby was born?

Linda quickly puts these behind herself and smiles kindly at Merlin. "But why are you loitering here when the others don't even know that you've arrived? Come on, let's go to them!" She pulls the pot down from the gas-stove and gently shoves Merlin to the direction of the living room.

"Do you know the baby's sex?" he asks slowly, because as soon as Linda touches him, the fluttering life makes its presence known to him, and it is so sweet and warm that the feeling makes Merlin smile.

"No, not yet" the woman says, pressing a hand absent-mindedly to the large curve of her belly.

"Would you want to know?"

Merlin could tell her. Anytime. But she shakes her head. "We want it to be a surprise," she says, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "But I think it's a boy," she adds it quick and quiet, like a secret whisper.

Her intuition proves to be correct when two months later she gives birth to a healthy boy.

When Ralph gathers the infant Michael into his arms for the very first time, Merlin notes it with something of a pang that he hasn't seem such a blissful, beaming smile one Ralph's face in ten years.

* * *

A short three months later, Helen Turner silently passes away at the age of sixty-two. Eugene holds himself together relatively well; he says that his mother has been telling him that she could feel her end nearing, and she just hoped that she will be able to meet her first great-grandchild. Her wish was granted. After the funeral, Bonnie puts a framed photograph onto the wall in which the grey-haired Helen is smiling brightly into the camera while rocking the five weeks old sleeping Mike in her lap.

Merlin doesn't tell it anyone that he catches Ray making a copy of that photograph to take it back to their home in Cambridge.

* * *

Nobody prepared Merlin for the shock he receives when she hugs Linda the next time he visits them in October.

"Oh my god, again?!" he exclaims in absolute surprise before his brain could have a chance of stopping his mouth. "You guys certainly aren't wasting time!"

Linda looks completely puzzled, not that Merlin can blame him. "What are you talking about?"

"Er... nothing," he says hastily, dropping his eyes to the ground. "Never mind. How's little Mike doing?"

The conversation thankfully turns to the baby's life, then to Ralph's new operational research job at a renewed nearby company and other things, and Merlin's slip is fortunately quickly forgotten.

... For about two months, that is, when the rare occurrence of Bonnie calling Merlin on telephone occurs.

"Linda's pregnant again!" she exclaims excitedly as a way of greeting. "Can you believe it? I will soon become a grandmother of two!"

"Wow, that's... great!" Merlin says, feigning surprise. "Congrats! How's Ralph taking the news?"

"Honestly? He was shocked to the cores, I can tell, but otherwise, he's very happy for it. He just worries about how they will manage with two babes all at once. I told them that Eugene and I would be more than happy to give them a helping hand, if they want it."

"And Ray?"

"Well, he wants to stay in Ireland until he gets his degree, but then he'd love to move to the UK. He said that if we go before him, he'll manage the house until someone buys it." She lowers her voice. "I have high suspicions that he wants Sophie to move in with him."

"About damn time," Merlin says with a grin. "They've been making eyes at each other since, what, they've entered primary school?"

Bonnie's laugh echoes long in the phone line. "Roughly, yes. So, I could reach you on this number so I guess you are still in Wales, then?"

"Oh yes. I'm leaving for Denmark in a week."

A short silence follows this statement, and then, "Don't go. Come with us."

"What?"

"Come with us to Cambridge. You could be of help, too, and I'm sure Linda would be thrilled." Merlin keeps quiet so long that he only speaks again when Bonnie worriedly asks, "Merlin? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, yeah…" he mutters. "Look, Bonnie, I don't think it's a good idea."

"I think it is," the woman states calmly. "Ralph is a working adult now, a husband and a father. He's far too old to hold onto childish grudges and it's high time someone makes him see that. I understand your reasons, you know I do, but you too are at fault for letting this drag on for so long. Get yourself a spine and show him that he has no reason to judge you wrong!"

_It's easy for you to say_, Merlin wants to counter, but he bites on his tongue to keep the words from slipping out of his mouth. It really has been long since his relationship with Ralph had reached an unfortunate dead end, and now Merlin doesn't even know how to interact around the man. It's hard to admit, but he is scared. _Terrified._ He doesn't want to mess it up more than he did already.

He can't deny who he is, can't pretend that he's something which he is not. He's magic, and immortal, and fucking gay. If Ralph can't accept him like how he is, then that's it – because Merlin can't change himself. And he wouldn't want to.

But he knows he ought to say something or else Bonnie won't stop pestering him, so he lets out a long sigh. "I… I'll think it through."

"Okay. That's all I ask." Merlin swears he can hear the woman smile. "Love you."

"Me too. Take care, and say hi to Eugene for me."

That night, Merlin spends an awfully long time lying on the bed and staring at the plane tickets in his hand.

* * *

He doesn't go to Denmark.

Ralph is not exactly happy with this turn of events, but he keeps his objecting thoughts – as clear as they are on his face – to himself, especially because Linda is evidently glad for the support, since her own family lives somewhere in Devon and can't afford moving closer to them. Bonnie and Eugene buy a smaller house near Ralph's that is close enough so they can go over whenever they're needed; Merlin only rents out a flat, because he's not optimistic on how long he'll stay there. He can't deny it however that Linda surely needs help, especially at daytime when Ralph is away for work. (Eugene as well, by the way, because he finds a new job in a month, Bonnie however doesn't even looks for one for now so she can stay with Linda and help her with Mike.)

Except for the tense connection between Ralph and Merlin, everything is going well. Merlin makes up for not getting to know Linda before and now they sometimes talk for hours without a break. He is surprised to discover that she is not the sober businesswoman-type as he previously put her down (somehow he came to the incorrect conclusion that she's the female counterpart of the ever-serious Ralph, but that's not the case) but a real gleeful girl with a lovely nature who has good sense of humour and as much of a sweet tooth as Merlin. (They regularly send Eugene to hunt Skittles, Gummy Bears, jelly beans, gobstoppers and various sweets for them, to which Eugene usually mutters a "Merlin, you are aware that you're not the pregnant one here, don't you?") When the school term ends and Ray comes to live with them for the duration of the summer break, his joyous personality seems to make life here even brighter.

As the months pass by, Ralph gradually starts to loosen up to the constant presence of his family, though he has yet to do that in Merlin's presence. There aren't any problems surfacing, but perhaps that's just because Merlin does his best to suppress his instincts whenever he catches himself absently trying to do something with magic. He's not changing himself, no, but… it won't hurt to try to humour Ralph now, will it?

"Hug Me", Linda reads out one afternoon as they chew on Love Hearts while watching some crap film on the telly. "Who wants to volunteer?"

Ray springs up from his armchair and all but throws himself on the woman (careful, of course, to not hurt her sizeable belly), winking shamelessly at his older brother who stands in the doorway with a frown that quickly melts into an honest smile when his wife beams and waves at him. "Come here, sweetheart!"

Before the smirking Ray could drop a situation-fitting comment on his brother about the endearment, Bonnie prevents it by loudly inspecting her own yellow piece of sweets. "Angel Face. It's a pity; I don't really like the green ones."

"What, no 'Bonnie Lass' this time?" Eugene asks, laughing. "Dull!"

The woman's only answer is to hold up another circular candy which reads _Grow Up. _They all laugh, and even Ralph can't really bite back the smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth at that.

Linda curls her arms around Ralph and leans over to see what Merlin has fished from the pack. "Come on, Merlin, what's yours?"

The warlock holds up his Love Heart so the others can read the message: _Find Me._

And honestly, it seems so utterly unfair that even these silly sweets are mocking him with taunting texts like these that Merlin grits his teeth in frustration. And no, he's not exaggerating and it's _definitely_ not a coincidence, because he pulled _Miss Me_ and _Blue Eyes_ and even a fucking _Hold Me_ (which had Merlin stare blankly at the candy for several minutes) in the previous rounds, and that's just too much of a coincidence, isn't it? But there is not much he can do. He doesn't even dare to complain about it. Not in front of Ralph.

"Shame, I wanted a Cheeky Boy," he says finally, trying to pull an easy smile.

He doesn't seem to fool anyone, not even Linda (who only has vague ideas about the whole King Arthur-thing), but they don't comment on it and the conversation soon turns to telly programmes when a Faulty Towers episode begins playing. Merlin meanwhile chews on the _Find Me_ Love Heart as roughly as he can, and as soon as it turns into sweet powdery crumbs in his mouth, he instantly feels better.

* * *

It's the third of July, Sunday, and they're all at Ralph's once again. Ralph is in some serious discussion about the importance of technical knowledge with his brother; Bonnie plays cheerfully with the toddling Mike; Eugene reads a newspaper; Linda is in the bathroom drying her hair after a shower; and Merlin is washing up the dishes after the Sunday roast.

That is, until an awful feeling shots through him like an arrow, leaving him paralysed with terror. The wet plates slip from his hands and fall to the ground where they break into tiny pieces with a horridly loud crash.

Ray is the first one to appear in the doorway of the kitchen, followed by the frowning Ralph. "What was that loud noise? Is everything okay?"

Merlin shudders in his whole body, and he feels sick as he look at the direction of the bathroom. "She…"

Ray knits his brows, but in that moment Linda's sudden cry cuts into the air. As on cue, all colour leaves Ralph's face. "Is she…? But she's not due yet!"

"She's in the ninth month, man, she's due anytime!"

"But–"

"Oh for god's sake, Ralph, just hurry up and go to her! I'll get the car, Merlin, you phone in to let the doc kno–"

"No." Merlin just stands there, pale and frozen, but as he hears the words "car" and "phone in", the stupor partially leaves him at last. "No, you can't go in, not yet. The baby…" And he's already racing through the rooms to reach Linda, to reach her in time. He can hear Ralph cursing behind his back and shouting questions at him, but he can't stop now to answer.

Eugene is already in the bathroom, helping Linda up from the floor. She's cradling her belly and moaning, still wet hair sticking to her forehead and cheeks. "Oh, god," she forces through her teeth, "it came so suddenly…"

Ralph shoves Merlin aside and rushes to her wife. "Don't worry, love, we go to the hospital now. Where's your pack?"

"It's in the–"

"Wait, wait!" Merlin interrupts, reaching out to touch her belly. Dread floods him as he feels the weak flutter, the cooling warmth and the faint light beneath his fingers… the baby's struggle for life. "Oh gods, she's dying," he breathes in absolute shock.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ralph snaps angrily. "Don't just stand there, Merlin, we have to get her to the hospital!"

"She's dying!" Merlin shouts back, desperate to get his point through before it gets too late. "She's dying, her heart is barely beating, and you can't get to the hospital fast enough, you have to let me–"

"Are you crazy? She's not dying, you imbecile, she's just in labour!

"Not Linda!" Merlin yells, attaining shocked moans from both Eugene and Linda. _"The baby!"_

Ralph turns ashen, and Linda moans and clasps her hands to her mouth in dread. "No, that can't be!" she rasps in a trembling voice. "But… it hasn't…_ she_, she hasn't been moving so much…"

Merlin takes her hand and start guiding her to the living room hastily. "For how long?"

"I'm… not sure, for an hour or so… Oh, god, I haven't even paid attention to it…" Tears start flowing down on her cheeks but her face quickly morphs into a pained grimace when the labour pains return.

When they reach the living room, Bonnie only makes a quick eye-contact with Merlin before promptly picking Michael up and heading for the child's room with him. "Come on, Mikey, let's play with that new toy train you got from your Dad."

Merlin meanwhile sits Linda down to the sofa, looks around, and then turns to Ray. "Ray, I need that table here… You know what, never mind." He looks at the table in question and lets his magic out. A second later it's already standing in the middle of the room, clean of everything. Linda gasps between two moans (it's probably the first time he's seen Merlin do magic up close, the way his eyes turn gold) but allows herself to be laid on the table.

Ralph however apparently decides that he's had enough. He marches to Merlin and grabs his shoulder so strongly that the warlock thinks it might have just disjointed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the man hisses, face turning from pale grey to angry red in seconds. "You can't have her deliver the baby _here! _We have to call an ambulance, tell them it's urgent…"

"She might have _minutes_, Ralph" Merlin hisses back. "Even if the ambulance arrives in ten minutes, they will do a Caesarean and the baby will _run out of time!_"

"Then what are we talking about?! You can't make Linda give birth in minutes and certainly not here!"

"I CAN!" Merlin shouts, and he's so angry, so frustrated now that framed pictures and vases and chairs all start shaking in union with him. He can't believe that Ralph can make such a hysterics at such a critical situation. "I can speed up the labour phase and the contradictions so Linda can start delivering in a few minutes, and then I'll have a chance of helping the baby's heart. If it's the speeding up you're worried about, it's perfectly safe, I've done this before and–"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT," Ralph roars. "I won't have you conduct a home birth with some freaky hocus-pocus when you claim that my daughter is in critical state! Ray, for the love of god, call the ambulance and tell them–"

Ray however shakes his head firmly, lips pressed into a thin, determined line on his face. "I think Merlin knows what he's doing."

"I agree," a pale Eugene cuts in while putting some pillows under Linda's head before brushing the woman's sweaty forehead. "Son, this is not the time to act according to a senseless grudge you hold against Merlin. Think about your daughter!"

"I do!" Ralph shouts. When he next looks at Merlin, the warlock thinks that this is it; this is the part of Ralph that has been growing larger and larger in the past ten years since they have drifted apart. The fury and accusation in his eyes, the tense set of her jaws, the way his fist turns white and he quite nearly snarls at Merlin… this is what he had caused, with his magic, with his ways. And he's so damn sorry for that. "I _do_ think about her, and that is exactly why I don't want a fumbling magician to be her only mean to survive!"

"RALPH!" Eugene snaps, shocked and mortified, while Ray looks like he might punch his brother in the face any moment.

Merlin swallows back the words that desperately want to come out at the biting remarks, and forces himself to state it calmly, "But that's it, Ralph – I _am _her only mean to survive! Can't you see how we're losing important moments with this ridiculous fighting?!" He turns to Linda and searches her face for a second before carefully putting her legs apart. "Do I have your permission to speed up the labour?" he asks her gently.

Linda nods earnestly, like it wasn't ever in question. Merlin tries to ignore Ralph's frustrated protests and closes his eyes while spreading his fingers on the woman's ankles.

Magic bursts out of his palm and floods into Linda's body who gasps and shudders, but grits out a breathy "No, it's okay, honey, I'm okay…" before throwing her head back onto the pillows and letting out one long moan. Merlin knows that the process in not painless (of course it isn't, how could it be when he's making her vagina widen in rapid speed), but he mumbles soothing words to her as he prepares her body for the delivery. A thick spur of magic search for the foetus, and upon finding her, it curls around her tiny body and doesn't let go after. She's in position, but her pulse is nearly non-existent, her heart scarcely ever making a beat.

"We have to get her out immediately," he mumbles, opening his eyes and looking Linda in the face. "I have to touch her directly to strengthen up her heart."

"You can't magic my child!" Ralph hisses again, this time nearly in Merlin's face as he stands right by his side, his whole body shaking with fury. "You can't mess her up!"

"Christ, Ralph, all I want is to SAVE her, not mess her up!" Merlin snaps, losing his already quite fragile patience. "Grow up already, brat_, _this isn't aboutus! It's about your _daughter!"_

"Exactly! MY daughter! Forgive me if I don't trust _you_ of all people to help Linda give birth to her!"

"I've helped _hundreds _of children to the world, you sodding sap! I've been a physician for _centuries_, I know how this works!"

"Oh, really?" Ralph spits back bitingly. "And when was that, exactly? In the Middle Ages?!"

"ENOUGH!"

They both shut up at the snapping shout that's so rare to hear from Eugene (in fact, Merlin can't remember _ever _seeing the man lose his composure), who then motions to the door with his shaking hand. "Ralph, get out. You're no use to anyone like this."

"You can't make me leave, Dad, it's _my_ house and wife and dau–"

"Go out, Ralph!"

Even Ralph shuts up at Linda's quiet, trembling but definite order. The woman wets her chapped lips before attempting to give his husband what is probably meant to be a reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry. I won't let anything bad happen to her."

"I…"

Linda moans sharply however, and that's Merlin's cue to finish the speeding up. "She's ready," he announces quietly.

Eugene slaps his hands. "Okay. Ralph, go wait outside. If you don't leave on your own _now_, I'll have Ray kick you out. Merlin, what do you need?"

"Tub of water. Don't bother heating it up, it will only take a sec for me. Towels, sharp scissors…" Linda moans again, and she squeezes his father-in-law's hand tightly. Ray jumps and hurries to gather up the necessities.

Ralph does not leave, but after a few moments of standing with an expression as if he'd just been slapped, he reluctantly retreats to the back of the room and watches the others without making any further protest. Nobody pays attention to him.

Natural delivery of babies really hasn't changed anything, and Merlin has more than enough experience, so it's almost a smooth process. The head is barely out of the birth canal however when the weak fluttering feeling stops completely, breaking cold sweat on Merlin's body.

"Crap, no…" he mutters, directing his magic into Linda again, reaching out for the foetus and trying to get inside her. To Ray's alarmed face, he quietly reports, "The heart stopped."

Linda cries out agitatedly (and they can hear Ralph's pained gasp in the background) and makes a grab for Merlin's wrist while looking him sharply in the eyes. "I don't care what magic you have to use, save her, I beg you! Don't let her die!" There is so much plea and desperation and, yes, trust in her voice that Merlin shudders under the weight of it.

"I do what I can," he says, turning his attention back to her pelvis, "but you need to deliver her very quickly. Push, Linda, you're almost there."

Linda's now crying constantly, hot tears streaming down her face but she does her best while Merlin starts pushing his magic inside the baby. Upon connecting to her, all he can feel is stillness, deadly stillness, but he surges for her impossibly tiny heart and whips it with waves of healing magic again and again, trying to get it to beat.

"Come on, sweetheart," he mumbles when the shoulders finally pass through. His palm covers nearly all of her small, slippery shoulder blade. "You can do it, come on…"

Very soon the whole body slips out, and Linda groans as her head falls back onto the pillows. She wants to sit up then and gather her baby, but Eugene wills her back, whispering, "Let Merlin do his magic."

And Merlin does, almost painfully aware of how much trust and hope they've put on him. He focuses his attention solely on the infant as he gives brief instructions to Ray on how to help Linda deliver the placenta. He can feel his eyes burning in their socks as he forces as much magic into the baby and into her heart as he can, willing the organ to resume beating, her lungs to start working as they ought to. She is still incredibly warm and smells strongly of the inside world, and frankly, a bit gross with all that white and purple and red and pink mess on her wrinkled skin, but still she's everything to her parents, to her _family_, and Merlin won't lose her – he just _won't._

He's the greatest sorcerer ever to exist. If he says that this wee heart will beat even and strong then damn well it will!

And there, it happens – his magic makes something akin a minor explosion inside the infant's body and right in that second, her heart starts thumping evenly, gradually becoming stronger with every passing minute. The placenta is already out, so Merlin quickly cuts the umbilical cord which Ray has clamped a minute before, and then the baby takes her very first breath… and cries out.

"Oh, thank the god!" Linda chokes out in relief. "Can I…?"

"Of course," Merlin says with a shaky breath, nearly fainting from the insane amount of relief that swells in his chest. He carefully places the crying little girl on her mother's chest and Linda holds her like she's the single most precious thing in the world.

"My beautiful daughter," she whispers, eyes once again tearing up until they're shining like liquid diamonds. "You're so perfect…" She kisses the messy pink forehead before looking up and glancing at the general direction of the corner. "Darling?"

It's almost funny how every head snaps up and turns to Ralph, who ducks his neck like a prey expecting an attack. He fidgets nervously and stands from one foot to another, not quite looking at the others but still glancing up from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of his new born daughter. When his eyes accidentally meet Merlin's, shame colours his cheeks to a deep, ugly red and he quickly drops his eyes to the ground. Eugene breaks the silence by clearing his throat, after which he steps to his older son and pats him on the shoulders.

"Go," he says lightly, nodding towards to mother and child. "Someone would like to meet you. I'll go fetch my wife and call that ambulance now."

"Don't tell them about the complication," Merlin tells him quietly while walking him to the door. "There won't be any trace of that, anyway. Just say that the labour phase went really fast and there was no time to call sooner." After a moment, he adds, "You can tell them that you brother-in-law, who has medical qualifications, was at home if you want."

"Do you really have that?"

"Oh, yes," Merlin says with a quick smirk. "A bit out-dated, but qualification nonetheless. I can whomp up a valid-looking certification in no time, but I don't think they'll care about that. Just have them make sure that they're both alright. Which they _are_, of course, but still…" Gods, can't he shut up? All the excitement has really gone to his head.

Eugene nods. "Thank you," he says, squeezing his hand tightly before leaving.

Merlin takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out before turning on his heels and walking back to the others. Ray has already washed the baby down and tucked her in warm blankets, and now stands next to the parents, examining his niece with a soft smile. Ralph holds the infant gingerly in his trembling arms – Merlin is almost tempted to sound his worry about Ralph dropping the girl – and whispers loving, feather-soft words to her.

Linda is the first one to look up when Merlin approaches them. Her forehead is shiny from sweat and small sparkling droplets are beading on her nose and above the bow of her lips, but she has a healthy flush and a beaming smile on her face that makes her look divine despite clearly being exhausted.

"They're coming to take you girls to the hospital for check-ups soon, but there's nothing you should be worried about," he tells them. "I'd still like to check you myself, though, if you don't mind."

"No, of course not," Linda says instantly. "I trust you more than anyone among the hospital monkeys."

Ray makes a strange noise that is somewhere halfway between a snort and a chuckle, and Merlin can't fail to notice the way Ralph flushes and fidgets again.

By the time Merlin finishes inspecting Linda's lower parts Bonnie arrives into the living room and now gently washes off her daughter-in-law's face with a soft, wet towel.

"Everything looks good," Merlin says finally while pulling Linda's skirt back down. "I didn't close the wounds – have to leave something for the docs, you see –, but I did a small spell that should take care of the worst of the pains."

"Thank you," Linda says, looking deep into Merlin's eyes with her own watery ones. "I never meant anything more seriously in my life. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for us… _Thank you_, Merlin. I am forever grateful to you."

And she says it so firmly, with so much confidence that it is Merlin's turn now to flush. "It was nothing," he says blankly, but then he catches Ray's expression, and hastily amends, "Well, not nothing, of course not, but… I mean. You're welcome."

The baby has relaxed after the birth, but now she starts making tiny little noises again, moving her hands and head with little movements in her father's arms as if searching for something. Bonnie smiles and turns to the other woman. "Linda, dear, you should put her on your breast."

Ralph carefully gives the baby to Linda who adjusts the child on her chest. "But there's no milk yet, is there?"

"No, but she's not doing that for feeding," Merlin explains. "She just familiarizes herself with your breasts, and probably won't even suck for long before resting a bit. But she needs that comfort now, and it will strengthen your bond."

"Oh, Merlin, what would we do without you?" Linda sighs happily.

In a completely not subtle way Ralph turns abruptly and heads to the door, muttering something about that he'll lead the ambulance men in once they arrive. Ray shares a look with Bonnie before stretching his arms out and quickly starting off after his brother.

"Merlin, would you please check in on Eugene and Mikey?" she asks while indicating to the door with her head in a _go after them before they do something stupid_ way. "I'm sure he would love to meet his little sister."

Merlin's mouth answers solely on its own. "Yeah, sure." And he's already halfway out of the living room.

The door doesn't even closes after him when he hears the awfully loud crash and a sharp, pained moan. He quickens his steps and rushes in the direction of the sound – only to find a crawling Ralph on the floor with blood dripping down his chin from where he presses his hands against his nose and a firmly standing Ray with a thunderous, ice-cold expression on his face.

Merlin gawps at them. Ray was always the stronger between the two of them, doing all those muscle-building sports and outside practises, but never before had he used violence against his brother. He now shakes his right hand with which he apparently carried out the punch, and only spares a short glance at Merlin before turning back to Ralph with a furious expression.

"'_Freaky hocus-pocus'_? A _'fumbling magician'_?" he spits, and Merlin involuntary shudders as he remembers the way those words were originally shouted at him. "Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, speaking to Merlin like that? _Daring_ to? If your wife wasn't giving birth to your daughter there, I swear I'd have kicked your arse to a bloody pulp right then and there!"

"Ray, you don't have to–"

"No, Merlin, it's about bloody time someone makes him get off that high horse! You, Ralph," he snarls, pointing his finger accusingly at his brother who's still at the floor, not looking up, "have been an utter arsehole to Merlin ever since _you _has messed up with not keeping his secret! _You _were at fault, not him – you were the one who couldn't keep shut and told Dick Rick about Merlin because you wanted to be popular! You've always adored Merlin, was _proud _of him, and you loved the magical gifts he always brought us, don't you dare denying it! Yet you messed it all up for a stupid chick and some jackass twats, and after that you had the nerve to blame it all on poor Merlin!"

Ray is panting so hard like he's running a marathon, and Merlin is torn between wanting to stop this fight because violence and shouting is never a solution and wanting to let Ray finish it because goddamn, that's what he thinks as well, and it feels good to hear someone stand up for him.

"You drove him away from his own _home;_ he hasn't dared coming back after that out of fear of making it more awkward for us. He never told you off for being a prick and he was always trying to avoid making you feel uncomfortable even though he knew how much Mum and I missed his regular visits. But you, Your Highness, you never appreciated it! You deemed him _worthless_… for what? For being magical? Gay? None of those are _his _fault, Ralph, it's just the way he is! Immortal? What, you think he's happy for it? I'm sure as hell he isn't!"

It's the first time since the shouting started that Ralph attempts to look up, but as soon as he catches Merlin's gaze, he jerks his head away. Merlin is not sure what makes him do so; shame or anger. But he can see the way he clenches his fists so hard that his knuckles go all white, the way his face is so red now that it nearly matches his auburn hair. He has dropped his arms by now, and Merlin can see the dark purple bruise that is already forming on the right side of his cheek and the thick cut on his lips that's still bleeding a bit.

Ray takes a shaky breath, and continues in a somewhat calmer way, though his words are still sharp like a dagger and freezing like ice. "I'm not sure how long I would have held it back, but your actions today… I can't even find the right words. I'm at the point of being ashamed as hell for having you as a brother! Merlin was _saving your daughter_, and you were fucking _ripping him apart _with your ridiculous accusations and insults and general hysterics! Where the _fuck_ has your mind gone, Ralph?! I'm sorry for even saying this, but you would have fucking deserved it if something had happened to…" He catches himself, takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "No, I won't say it. Not because of you – but because of my sister-in-law and niece."

Someone quietly clears his throat. Three heads snap up, and Merlin is mortified to discover that Eugene is standing in the hallway, pointing at the window beside him while wearing a fathomless expression. "The ambulance is here. You might want to finish this up soon."

And oh gods, just how long has he been standing there?

For an insanely long moment, there is nothing but dead silence… but then Ralph lubberly gets up from the floor and storms up on the stairs to his bedroom without so much as a glance at anyone. Ray glares after him for a long time before the tense set of his shoulders finally relax.

He glances back to the stunned Merlin standing behind him.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he starts, making something of a shrug, "but I couldn't bear the thought of no one putting him in place this time either, and it was apparent that you'd be willing to let it go again."

"No it was… alright, I guess." Merlin scratches his arm absently. "Thank you. I… It means a lot to me, what you've said."

Ray smiles at him then, and Merlin is happy to see the angry expression gone. "It's the truth."

Eugene walks to the front door, but before opening it, he turns to Merlin. "You should put on that glamour of yours."

Russell is currently around fifty-five, and while Merlin usually don't have any problem with it (hey, he's lived as a long-bearded antediluvian often enough), he doesn't really want to change himself now.

"Nah, I… I'll make myself scarce." He looks at the staircase and makes a small unidentifiable motion with his head. "I should probably go and have a talk with him."

Eugene nods earnestly like he's just wanted to suggest it himself. "Good. Tell him please that Bonnie goes with Linda in the ambulance. She wants Ralph to follow with his own car after he has calmed down."

"Okay."

Merlin is feeling quite sick to the stomach as he knocks on the door of the parental bedroom, but he knows that he can't postpone it any longer. He didn't have this talk with the fifteen-year-old Ralph, and look what have it brought to them. They should settle this matter once and for all… but he can't help wondering about whether that will mean that he has to exclude himself completely from this part of the family. It's a highly distressing thought.

When no answer comes after three attempts at knocking, Merlin gingerly pushes the door open.

Even though it's Sunday afternoon, the drawn curtains make the whole room dull and relatively dark. Ralph sits on the double-sized bed with his back to the door, head bowed down. He doesn't look up at the sound of Merlin entering.

"Er… Ralph?" The man jerks like Merlin has slapped him, and the warlock wets his lips nervously, because gods, is he really that angry? "I'm sorry for what Ray did… I mean, I never wanted this whole thing to get physical, and I certainly did_ not_ encourage any violence on his part. Or the whole fight, as a matter of fact."

"No, it's… I know you didn't," Ralph says, finally turning around to face Merlin and holy crap, Merlin wasn't expecting _this_.

"Are you… Ralph, are you _crying?_" he asks, even though he knows it's a perfectly unnecessary question because he can see the streaming tears quite clearly on his bruised face, the watery redness of his eyes that doesn't dare meeting Merlin's own but focuses on a point somewhere between his chin and his nose.

Ralph rubs at his own swelled nose and winces in pain, but doesn't answer.

"Should I… um. I could, you know." He makes a wide waving gesture with his hand, not quite daring to use words like "magic", "spell" or "charm". "Heal it, if it causes much pain to you, or…"

Stupid! _Of course_ it causes much pain – his nose has swelled to the size of a cucumber, it can barely keep the frame of his glasses in place. And Linda and the baby surely wouldn't want to meet Daddy looking like this.

But Ralph is shaking his head firmly even as Merlin fumbles with the words. "You don't have to. I… I deserved it."

Well. Merlin doesn't exactly deny that.

And apparently that's as much of a cue as Ralph needed, because he finally looks Merlin directly in the face and… and breaks down completely.

"I… Jesus Christ, I'm so, so_ sorry_!" he chokes out in a hoarse voice that Merlin can hardly recognise, and the tears stars flooding again. There's nothing manly, nothing nice in that cry: it's ugly and messy and all kinds of embarrassing, and Merlin can't help but stepping closer in a protective instinct. "It's _true_, everything he said. I was a right git for treating you the way I did, like you deserved it even though you did not… for making you feel like you don't belong in this family, but you _do_, and god, if you weren't here today…! If you weren't, I could have… would have…" He can't seem to force the words out and breaks off, choking out even more sounds like he's being strangled. Merlin approaches him slowly, and when he puts a tentative hand on Ralph's shoulder, he starts shaking wildly again. "I am so sorry, Merlin!

They stand like this for long moments, Merlin giving silent comfort to Ralph until he calms down enough to not shake constantly from crying. The warlock sits down beside him on the bed, and wets his lips again before quietly saying. "It's probably my fault, too. I never realized how much pressure I've put you guys out to back then, and since then… I'm not sure. I guess I was just as afraid of you as you've been of me."

"I was never afraid of you," Ralph confesses in what would could be a barely audible whisper had not for the raspy roughness of his voice. "I… Back then, I felt like I was keeping a block of gold in my pockets all the time; I hated how I had to keep it from everyone else when it could have made me known and liked. I was always…" He swallows, and drops his eyes to his enlaced fingers. "You know how Ray it is; forever friendly, forever cheerful, always easy to talk to. He's always needed two minutes to make new friends while I struggled with that in all my childhood. I… was always jealous of that. I had the brains in the family, yes, but that's not something kids are proud of, you know? And with you… it was a secret that made me feel special, like I was better than the others for knowing someone like you… and I wanted the others to know how much better I was. Christ, I was so stupid!"

Merlin doesn't say anything. He suspects that Ralph has never revealed this much of his weaknesses to anyone, ever, maybe not even his wife, and it makes Merlin feel weird in a not entirely unpleasant, but not in a pleasant way either.

"After _that _happened, I was… terrified that I'd be the laughing stock of others, that I'd get bullied even more and that made me say things that already two months later I wished I could take back. I– I always wanted to tell this to you, but you started distancing yourself from us, and the more time passed the more I dreaded apologizing. I was too proud and arrogant to admit my mistake. Gradually, I convinced myself that it was really your fault, and that I had nothing to apologize for. Magic became a terribly sour spot for me."

"And today, I just got so… scared." He looks up at Merlin, and the warlock can see the raw terror that still lingers behind his eyes. "Terrified. I couldn't really even process what you had said when you were already getting into action and fighting for my child's life while I was whining and bitching like an idiot… Oh god, I don't even remember any of it. Everything went dark and the only thing I could think of is that my daughter is dying and I really should get a doctor but then I'd have to start explaining magic and things and I… I don't know what came over me. I'm so ashamed of my behaviour you can't begin to imagine it…"

Merlin squeezes Ralph's shoulder, and he in turn closes his eyes, but some shining droplets still escape through his lashes.

"I could have killed my own daughter," he whispers, and there's so much broken self-loathing in those few words that Merlin cannot keep silent anymore.

"No. You'd have done everything in your power to save her."

"But that wouldn't have been enough, would it?" he rasps out, swallowing loudly. "The doctors wouldn't have been able to save her. She'd have died by the time they got her out, wouldn't she?" Merlin doesn't reply to that, but that's an answer on its own. Ralph groans, and buries his face in his hands. "Sweet heavens, I almost jumped at you for not listening to me, and then my daughter would be _dead _now! How can I ever look Linda in the face after what I have done today?"

"You're just human," Merlin says quietly through the muffled noise of Ralph's rough crying. "Humans make mistakes."

"Lo-losing my child would not have been a simple 'mistake'."

"No. But you didn't lose her." He searches for Ralph's eyes and upon finding it, Merlin gives his shoulder another reassuring squeeze. Suddenly, he can see the same boy in this grown man who he thought he'd lost nearly ten years ago, and it's an odd relief, a startling present. He hasn't changed that much after all, for all the tough and cold masks he had put on himself. "You can start amending for your past mistakes starting from now."

Ralph sniffs loudly, and he rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms, not swallowing back the hisses when his hands press against the fresh bruise. "I'm so sorry for what I've put you through, Merlin," he says then quietly. "I truly am sorry. Can you… Can you ever forgive me?"

The warlock flashes him a smile.

* * *

The child is named Agatha.

Merlin is glad. He has no objection to boys at all, but after three boys in the family, he's glad for the girl. (And he can finally renew his excellent braiding-technics! After Aggie's hair grows out, that is.) He resumes his Uncle Merlin title however, and that's something he never realized how much he's missed.

Nothing is the same after Agatha's birth regarding his relationship with Ralph. After that long time due man-to-man talk (about which they mutually agree on never sharing details, simply because as embarrassing and baring as it was, that concerned the two of them, and only them alone) Ralph finally stops acting on his pride and grudge, and their relationship slowly but surely starts to heal.

Old habits are hard to leave off; Ralph still tenses in Merlin's presence before loosening up, and sometimes he still grunts for the use of magic, but that's only happens when Merlin is using it for silly things. Like that time when Mike is three and Aggie is two, and Merlin brings them charmed toys; Mike gets a toy-sized fire engine with three miniature fire-fighters inside, who can come out of the truck, assemble the pipe and wave at the boy (Bonnie _loves_ them, says that one of the fire-fighters even resembles Merlin) while Aggie gets a pink plush unicorn that walks and smiles and sings parts of _I've Got No Strings_ from Walt Disney's _Pinocchio_. The little girl laughs at that, but when Ray sees it for the first time, he pulls a face and jumps like he's stepped on a nail with the loud exclamation of "Holy singing unicorn!" Since then, that phrase has been used generally whenever he sees something gross or distasteful. (Merlin doesn't like this new family habit. Not in the least.)

After Ray finishes university in 1978, they finally sell their old house in Ferns, and Ray moves to Chelmsford, Essex where his application to the Great Baddow High School as a Physical Education teacher is accepted. He starts a loose relationship with a girl called Martha, but his whole family expects him to go back to Ferns to get things right with Sophie soon enough. (And they're not mistaken – two years later at Christmas he suddenly turns up at Ralph's with Sophie on his arms. Somehow, nobody's particularly surprised.

Ray proposes to Sophie that summer, and they get married in the autumn of 1981.)

When the children are older, Bonnie starts working again with Eugene. Merlin sells his flat because he doesn't need it anymore: whenever he's in Cambridge, he stays with either the older or the younger Turners. He never travels far nowadays, however; he keeps himself busy in Great Britain, mostly Wales. He once goes north to Scotland where stays in Banavie for a while (among other places), from where he can see the Beinn Nibheis (or Ben Nevis, as people prefer calling it) daily. He's tempted to climb it so he can see what had remained after his beloved dragon-sister, but in the end he always chooses not to. The white pendant that has been hanging around his neck ever since the day of her death is enough. He wouldn't ever forget, anyway.

Merlin once again starts doing small jobs here and there; interpreting, tailoring, clock-making, baking, and so on. Besides these, he finishes some courses and gets some more certifications, and with it, a hell lot more identification papers (bah!). He still drives his good old Weebee, no matter how aged it gets; the car still functions splendidly, although that's mostly thanks to Merlin's magical enhancing.

He spends a long time near Avalon as well. A small town has formed around by now, and now wide roads are closing round the lake and the remains of the forest, with bridges and a pretty gazebo being established so locals and visitors can find pleasure in the sight of the beautiful faraway mountains behind the brilliant lake. And oh, they _do_ cherish the sight, only there isn't a single one out of them who can see the Isle with the monument like _Merlin _can. He supposes that is because of his magical heritage, and, really, being who he is, but he finds himself not feeling sorry for it. Avalon was always_ his_ place, and while he might got used to humans growing to it and deeming it their own, it feels good – comforting, even – that a small piece of this significant place has remained solely his own.

The library where he currently works at (as "Mr Greenhill", the gruff and snarky old man who never hesitates to tongue-lash at brats who don't bring the books back in time) is quite close to the lake, so he can see it every day as he walks the pavement beside the road. At the first weeks he always stops whenever he gets a glimpse of the Isle, but now he wills himself to pass it without any pinging glance at its direction. But he can't help the slight pauses that still occur from time to time; not looking up and glancing at the Isle feels rude like denying a greet from an old and dear friend. In a way, that's exactly it. When Merlin catches himself doing this, he takes a deep breath, pulls his hat lower on his head and hastily adjusts his coat and bags (which are always sooo damn heavy for being stuffed full with books) before willing himself to keep walking seemingly unaffected.

Maybe this is the reason why he dreams about Arthur one night.

It hasn't happened in centuries, but that one night his dreams are full of distant memories of the King; he lives through their first meeting, all of their banters and fights and adventures… he experiences the joy of falling in love with him again and the pain of losing him again at Camlann. The last thing he sees before jerking awake from the dream is Arthur's still body floating further and further away from him in the boat.

When Merlin rises with a panting gaps, he's whole body is trembling wildly, long grey hair sticking to his sweaty skin and heart beating an uneven rhythm against his ribs.

It takes him a long time to fall back asleep after that.

A year later, Ralph calls him on his phone. "Can you come to us? It's… urgent." His voice is thick with nervousness and Merlin can feel it in an instant that something is wrong.

"A problem?"

A long pause, followed by a brief, "Something like that. When can you–?"

"I'll be there by tomorrow."

Merlin takes the train, and true to his words, he's in Cambridge by next day. Of course he rejuvenates himself to his physical age the moment the front door closes behind him.

"Hellooo!" he shouts loudly to make his arrival known, dropping his suitcase to the corner.

It doesn't even take a minute and Mike is already racing to him like Merlin's the bloody Santa Clause. "Uncle! Uncle Merlin! Hi!" And he jumps at Merlin before hugging him tightly.

Merlin laughs and ruffles the kid's dishevelled dark tufts. "Howdy, Mike? Gods, you're so big! How's school?"

"Good," the boy says with a grin. "I've started to learn playing the piano! My music teacher says I'm doing it very well, and I told him about how my uncle can play like an orchestra all by himself!"

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think, Mike?" Merlin puts the kid down and heads to the living room with the boy trailing after him excitedly. "But it's great that you're playing the piano. Practice a lot and enjoy what you do! And maybe your sis will sing an accompaniment to it."

"Oh, she doesn't like it," Mike says in a somewhat less chipper way, and it doesn't escape Merlin's notice how he starts fidgeting under the warlock's gaze. "She muted the piano when I was practising yesterday."

"She muted it?" Merlin repeats with knitted brows. "What do you mea–"

"Oh, Merlin, thank god you're here!"

The man can barely even look up when he's already covered from head to toe in a warm and tight, sweet-smelling embrace. Linda's crispy curls tickle the bare skin of his neck, and he almost snorts into the woman's shoulder from the sensation. "Hey, Linda. You're kind of… suffocating me here..."

"Oh, god, I'm sorry!" She quickly releases him and steps back a bit, but her happy smile only widens. "You were really quick."

"Yeah, well, I got the feeling from Ralph that something's not quite right, so…"

As on cue, Ralph appears in the doorway with a worried frown that quickly melts away as soon as he sees Merlin. "I thought I'd heard your voice. Thank you for coming so quickly."

"It's nothing," Merlin says as he shakes Ralph's extended hand warmly. "But tell me, what's this all about?"

Linda shares a glance with her husband, who then swallows and presses his lips into a thin line. "Perhaps it would be best if you would just have a look at it."

He leads Merlin to the living room where Aggie is sitting on the carpet with a doll in her hands, staring unblinkingly at the television screen where the _Lady and the Tramp_ is currently playing. The child doesn't even look at them when they enter, which is strange, because she's usually right there with his brother (the two are like_ twins_, Merlin swears) when Mike jumps on Merlin the second he arrives. But then again, she can be much focused when something perks her interest. Like a cartoon film, for example.

"Hello, Aggie," Merlin tries, and he even waves his hand, but the only response he gets from the six-year-old is an acknowledging hum.

Linda clears her throat and walks to her daughter, picking up the remote control from the sofa on her way. "Agatha, I told you that you can't watch videos until you pack your book bag."

When the girl pays no attention to her, Linda pushes a button on the remote and the screen suddenly goes blank in the middle of Si and Am's _Siamese Cat Song_. Merlin has a fleeting thought that she should have at least let Aggie finish the song, because as embarrassing as it is to admit, that's some catchy melody it has.

And apparently, the gods are agreeing with him because there is a short static buzz and in the next moment the movie suddenly springs back to life.

Merlin makes a surprised blink (has he really wanted to finish the song so much that he involuntary turned on the telly?), but he doesn't have time to really dwell on it for Linda's angrily snapped, "Agatha!"

Merlin gawks at the girl and then back to the telly where Lady successfully manages to save the goldfish from the hungry wicked cats before Linda once again turns off the television.

Aggie makes a frustrated noise through her nose.

"Do you hear what I hear?" asks one of the newly re-appeared cats with a thick accent.

"Grrr, a baby cry!"

"Where we're finding baby, there's mil–"

Linda turns off the TV again, takes a deep breath, and then marches to her daughter and stands right in front of her to block out her view. "Agatha, enough is enough!"

"–lk nearby."

"_If we look in baby buggy there could be_ plenty of milk for you!"

"And also some for me!"

Lady starts growling in union with Linda, but even the woman is in for a surprised jump when the tape is abruptly pulled though the fast forward effect. Aggie turns her attention to the doll in her hands and starts combing its hair while a sped up Lady chases the cats, Aunt Sarah comes down and blames Lady for the mess, takes Lady to a pet shop to get her a muzzle and Lady runs away. The playing speed of the video snaps back to normal when the Tramp sees Lady being chased by wild dogs and races to her rescue.

Linda breathes out a frustrated sigh and steps away from Aggie, walking to her husband and Merlin with swift, tense steps. She bites on her lower lip as she turns to the warlock with an anxiously whispered, "Have you seen what she did?"

There's a deep line from too much frowning on Ralph's forehead, and his eyes are just as concerned when he speaks as her wife's. "It's beyond our depths."

Merlin looks back at the little girl who has once again closed off to the world completely for the film. His mind is already racing through explanations and meanings and future options wildly, but his body must still be perplexed from the shock because it doesn't really ask for his mind's permission before deciding to open a mouth and say, "I can't see why. It's perfectly understandable."

Noticing the surprised glances he receives, he adds, "I mean, those scenes with Aunt Sarah are utterly unfair. No wonder she doesn't like watching them!"

* * *

So, it turns out that receiving so much amounts of Merlin's magic in the first wee moments of her life somehow made Agatha magic.

The only explanation Merlin can come up with is that since he had to push magic inside the dead still baby heart to get it beating, perhaps the peeled portion of his magic stayed right there inside the organ to keep on supporting it through the years. He shares this assumption with the worried parents as well, who nod and agree, but it is quite obvious that they don't really care about the _why?_ as they care for the _and now what?_.

After Merlin has a long talk with the girl, he learns that her power manifested about a year ago, but she was only able to move smaller things back then. She was only five, and she didn't understand it for what it was; she just started to notice that her toys were moving the way she wanted them, sometimes even smiling or winking at her, and that she found it strange but it didn't scare her. She hasn't been able to use her magic intentionally before the week Ralph has phoned Merlin.

As she's only six, she hasn't been told about Merlin's true identity yet, but seeing as how things progressed, Linda and Ralph are agreeing on making an exception so Merlin reveals himself to the girl. He tells her that he's also magic and thus he can help her understand and use it better, but she has to keep it a complete secret – if not only for his, but for her own sake. (The warlock's heart warms up quite a bit as he listens to Ralph telling his daughter about the importance of keeping her and Merlin's secret. Before, Merlin was afraid that his newfound friendship with Ralph will shatter again after the revelation that Merlin has involuntary made Agatha magic, but fortunately, this thought never seems to form in Ralph's head. If anything, he's just even more grateful to magic for saving her life and – apparently – keeping her alive all this time.)

Merlin slowly starts teaching spells to the girl, but quickly discovers two things: a) Aggie is utterly hopeless with pronouncing Old English (a fact which will never change in her entire life) and b) but it's not really a problem because her magic seems to be as instinctive as Merlin's (which is not surprising, considering that it actually _is_ Merlin's magic that she has partially borrowed for good). She hasn't got as much power as Merlin – only capable of moving, mutating and altering things – but she's talented. And what's even more important, she seems to understand the weight of her ability even in such a young age.

That aside, she does things that makes her parents go grey before they even hit thirty-five, but all in all, she's a good kid. A lovely, extremely sweet kid – who somehow adopts a shockingly cheeky nature by the time she reaches ten.

After the awakening of her magic, Merlin temporary stops with his journeys in favour of moving in with Ralph's (to the parent's excess request) so he can become sort of a live-in mentor for the girl. Mike and Aggie are flying high from this arrangement, just like Bonnie and Eugene. For four years, Merlin stays in Cambridge and for once it's not him but Ray and Sophie who are taking over the role of the Beloved and Faraway Living relatives whose visits the kids and adults are always waiting eagerly. Especially after Sophie gives birth to a baby boy named Wilbur in 1984.

Merlin only ever goes away for a week now once a year, and only for the sake of walking his lap of honour around the Lake of Avalon. He got used to watching over it while he worked around there, and now he finds himself missing it almost constantly, like he's got an itch after the nostalgic dream he had there and now he feels out of place and odd if he doesn't go back at least once in a while.

… It's probably this newly-resurfaced obsession that makes him wander into a tattoo parlour one day.

He doesn't even plan for it, he just… sees the sign and the next moment he finds himself inside, scrawling a hasty drawing to a white sheet about the picture he'd want to get onto his body. At first the thought of getting Arthur's name tattooed on himself fleets through his mind, but it's so utterly embarrassing even in the private place of his mind that it leaves Merlin blushing to a furious shade of red. He should find something less obvious, he thinks, and his mind wander to the Pendragon crest… But no. Getting Arthur's (and Uther's, yuck!) emblem tattooed to his skin would be an equally strange and more than a pathetically desperate act on his part.

Still, he wants to get something of a reminder, something old and precious – like what he'd got from Aithusa –, and so he does his best to re-create the phoenix emblem as he recalls the so very distant memories about the day Gwen first showed that to him in Camelot.

When he finishes the drawing, he gives it to the tattoo artist with heated cheeks and releases a sigh he hasn't realized he'd held back when the man nods.

The emblem with the single fame and the phoenix nestling is now resting on the left side of his chest in burning red and sparkling orange colours. It's not big (not longer than the length of his thumb), yet it feels a large step toward something that Merlin can't quite grasp but feels with every cell of his body. To Merlin, the emblem is not just about Arthur; it's about magic, ideals, hope, acceptance, promises, memories and affection. It's everything he's lost and everything he hopes to find again.

He thinks about home, his _new_ home, with the people inside who loves him… and realizes that partially, he already has.

* * *

Merlin sits on the wooden bench of the gazebo, resting his eyes on the vast expanse of the deep blue lake. The surface seems to be sparkling almost blindingly in the summer shining, but Merlin doesn't care about that. (It's not like he could lose his eyesight, anyway.) Here, surrounded by the snow-capped mountains and the bright green forest, he stands with an old friend. Here, he feels content and calm.

The Isle is foggy and mysterious as always, even in such a beautiful summer day, but Merlin has long gotten used to that. It's funny, how the world has changed in the past nearly fifteen centuries and in the process, how he himself has changed. He remembers coming here to Avalon in the first few decades after Camlann; always broken down, always with a tight lump in his throat, always on the verge of tears. Being around this place was equally painful and addictive, like a drug about which Merlin knows that it's bad for him yet he comes for more.

But as the years – _centuries_ – went by, Merlin has learnt to accept it. It's his destiny, as Kilgharrah would say. He doesn't feel like Avalon is ripping his heart out of his chest anymore; it's more like descending to a hidden, secret part of him which is his sole sanctuary – a shrine, a hiding place, a guarding place of memories. Nowadays, Merlin doesn't feel the need to spill his heart out to the souls who rest in the Isle, hidden away from his eyes. He used to find comfort in talking to them, and although he still does it every now and then, these days he is content just by standing on one of the bridges and resting his eyes on the lake while bees and birds sing their ageless songs above his head and dance cheerfully with the warm sunrays.

Today, Merlin chats casually with an elderly lady (gods, he's got an inkling that the granny actually _fancies_ him, and Jesus Christ, had he known before that it will attract the unwanted attention of wrinkled old ladies, he sure as hell wouldn't have taken his old form again) before awkwardly excusing himself with low mumbles and walking to the large bridge in front of the gazebo, leaning onto the metal guardrail with his elbows. Soft summer rain has started dribbling from the sky, making various designs of water rings on the otherwise still surface of the lake. The gentle breeze that flags Merlin's long milky-white beard carries the sweet scent of flowers and rain and _nature_, and it is such a nice feeling that he leans his head back and closes his eyes, sinking into pleasant obliviousness as the cool drops come to rest on his face before rolling down to disappear in his beard.

His silent reverie is abruptly shattered by a loud splash.

Jerked out of his peaceful meditation, Merlin swiftly turns around only to see a small child trying to climb up the guardrail on the other end of the bridge. There is a small bag dropped to the ground beside him, opened and tipped over, some content of which must have slid behind the rail and fell into the water, causing the splash earlier. Merlin's abrupt outrage at having some little snotnose brat dropping_ things_ into his lake is stilled only by the fear of having _the same snotlose brat_ inside his lake very soon, if the kid's continued rail-climbing is anything to go by.

As much as he's fond of kids, no one gets away with throwing things to the sacred place of Avalon, so Merlin storms over to the little pest and makes a grab for his neck.

"What on earth do you think you're doing, fool? Find another lake to jump into, that's no swimming pool for you!" He snarls at the boy, and okay, maybe he exaggerates a bit, but he's clearly over-fired from having been flirted by a wrinkled old lady. (Not even a wrinkled old _man_! Not that it'd be any better…)

The boy shrieks a bit when Merlin grabs him by the collars before dropping him unceremoniously on the bridge floor, but recovers quickly and blinks up at the warlock with huge sky-blue eyes. "I wasn't going to jump in," he states in a bit of humble-mouthed way.

"Then what were you doing, exactly? Rail-climbing is dangerous! And you _dropped things into the lake!_"

… Yeah, so that's the sorest spot for him, so what?

The boy – who is clearly not more than five – furrows his brows and even _pouts_ before turning his head to face the sight, glancing over the lake and finally turning back to look Merlin in the eye. "I didn't do that in purpose, and it was just a bouncy ball. But I apologize."

Merlin's brows lift as far as the top of his forehead. Just what kind of pre-school kid uses the word "apologize" instead of a simple "sorry"? He must be the child of posh academy teachers or diplomats.

"Are you Merlin, mister?"

Merlin chokes in his saliva. He tries and fails to disguise it as a cough while he looks down at the boy who is already climbing the rail again, but this time only so that he can see past the banisters to gaze at the view with joy dancing around his face.

"What makes you ask that?" Merlin asks warily.

"Mum reads me a lot of stories. Judging by your look, you are either Merlin or Gandalf."

Oh, so the kid gets historical legends and epic fantasy novels as bedtime stories? No wonder he's so proper then – Merlin would be willing to bet a box of Skittles that even his great-step-nephew-of-sort Mike has not heard about Gandalf yet. And he's already eleven.

"Gandalf got slain at one point. I don't really fancy that," Merlin puffs with a light, raspy chuckle. "Nah, I'll go by Merlin and let me tell you know now, boy, that if you don't get off that rail in this exact second, I turn you into a frog and push you into the lake."

"I thought that you don't want anything in the lake," the brat says, stepping lower on the guardrail but not quite hopping down onto the ground. "And besides, I really didn't do anything wrong. I just said goodbye to the lady."

The next biting remark is already on the tip of Merlin's tongue, but as soon as the last sentence sinks in his head, the man halts as though he was doused with chillingly cold water.

"What… What lady?" he asks, leaning close to the boy but not quite seeing him.

"The lady who lives in the lake," the kid answers readily, pointing to the distance with one pink finger. "And on the island, I guess."

"You can… you can see the island?" Merlin gapes, nearly fainting from shock. No one has ever seen the Isle before! No one!

The kid turns away from the scenery to look up at the warlock from beneath his fair fluttering lashes. "Of course. Why wouldn't I see it?"

"And the lady…?"

"I don't really know her," the boy says, playing with the shining droplets of rain that beads the top of the rail, "but she has been speaking to me at nights whenever we came to this town to visit my grandpa. But last night she said that this will be the last time, because now it's time for her to give me back. I don't really understand it, but I figured I should say goodbye properly."

Merlin feels weak and faintish in his whole body, and his heart hammers so much that he really thinks it will break his ribs for real this time. Like he wasn't looking at the kid before at all, suddenly he takes in the soft, serene curves of the boy's face, the clear and crisp blue of his eyes, the silky blond mop of hair that positively _gleams_ in the summer shining… Aithusa's parting words start ringing loudly in his ears, and when a gentle, familiar tingling rush through his body, Merlin's jaw hits the floor.

"You're… oh my god," he breathes, and he has to grab the rail because he's not sure his knees won't give in the next second. "I mean, you clearly don't remember but– no, shit, I shouldn't say anything, but I'm so… well, er. I– Nothing. Nothing at all."

The kid furrows and looks questioningly at Merlin, but then he snaps his head up when a loud shot echoes in the air, "Christopher! What are you doing?!"

Merlin looks in the direction of the voice and soon spots a nice lady running towards them. She's panting by the time she gets there, long milk-blonde hair flying everywhere and getting stuck to her flushed cheeks. She isn't Ygraine, Merlin observes instantly, but quite similar to the ancient queen in appearance.

As soon as she reaches them, she throws her hands around the little boy's shoulders. "Chris, what have I told you about wandering off from me? I was worried sick!"

"I'm sorry, Mum," he says, dropping his eyes to the ground. Merlin has to give him credit for actually sounding sincere.

"And you haven't put on your hat _again_. I know it is summer, but unless you want to spend the rest of your holiday in bed down with flu, you shouldn't make light of the raining. Understood?" The boy nods, and that's when the woman finally looks up and flashes a tentative (worried, more likely) smile at Merlin. "I'm sorry, sir; has my son been bothering you?"

"No, not at all," the warlock finds himself saying, and the he way the kid's brows knit at that answer doesn't really escape his notice. "The lad was climbing up the guardrail so I told him to get off before he falls down, that's all."

"Was he?" The woman throws a chiding glance at his son. "Thank you very much for your help, then. He's a sweet child, but he can be so mischievous sometimes that I hardly can leave him alone! Especially when we came here to visit my father, he tends to roams away even more."

Merlin smiles at her. "He will grow out of it, I'm sure."

"Well, we have to go now; my husband is waiting for us in the car. Thank you again." She shakes Merlin's head before heading off in the direction of the nearest car park. "Come on, Chris, say goodbye to the mister!"

"Be a good kid, Christopher," Merlin says softly. "And listen to your mother."

The boy nods and brushes the hem of his sleeves across his rain-streaked cheeks in an attempt to get rid of the wetness, but he only manages to smudge it all over. He's got a healthy, childish flush on his face but his expression is much more mature than one would expect from a boy his age.

"I prefer my middle name," he says then, blinking up at Merlin again with a flutter of wet eyelashes. "But Mum doesn't want to hear about it."

"Oh. And what that would be?" Merlin asks, humming as he scratches his long, wet beard.

The boy beams him a smile then – a cheerful, all-teeth-smile that is so alike to the one that still hunts Merlin's dreams some nights that it is practically a punch to his guts – and picks up his bag from the ground.

"Arthur," he says, and before Merlin could recover from the heart-attack he swears he starts suffering in that moment, the kid throws the bag on his shoulders and runs after his mother…

… leaving a petrified, gaping warlock in his wake.

After standing motionlessly for what feels to be hours (but at least a good dozen of minutes, because the light raining has stopped by now), Merlin slowly turns his head away from the spot where the kid disappeared with his mother from his sight. He never even noticed when he lifted his hand to grasp Aithusa's scale, but now he hisses at how hot it pulses against his palm – he wouldn't be surprised if it burnt a hole into his shirt. When he is finally confident that his heart won't leap out of his mouth the moment he opens it, Merlin turns to face the peacefully wavering lake.

"So," he starts, trying not to flinch at how breathless he sounds, "talking to him but not to me, are we now, Freya?"

Strange shimmering flickers across the lake – one that could be easily blamed on the sunshine playing tricks on the surface of the water, but Merlin would swear that it's nothing else but the lake winking cheerfully at him.

* * *

Merlin buys a ticket to Cambridge in an hour (right after he can finally get himself out of the dazed state the newly reincarnated Arthur has put him in) and travels back home with the next train. He keeps grinning and laughing out at the oddest of times all the way back to the city, and when he finally jumps off the train, he starts running home from the railway station like his life depends on it. He's panting hard, heart beating an uneven rhythm against his ribs, sweat rolling down from his temples from exhaustion and hot summer weather, but he doesn't care about any of that because it finally, finally happened – Arthur has come back. Arthur has come back!

_Arthur has come back!_

Merlin jumps and whoops and quite nearly sings from joy, for his heart feels so full with excitement, happiness and gratitude that he wouldn't be surprised if it exploded from all the extreme, thundering emotions. People on the streets cast funny looks at him from time to time – questioning, suspicious, sometimes outright disapproving – but he couldn't care less because ARTHUR. HAS. RETURNED!

All the lonely years and hopeful dreams and agitated break-downs and hopeful day-dreamings… nothing matters now, because it's over. It has happened. He keeps pinching himself to confirm again and again that he's not dreaming and… Christ and Mary and Joseph and Buddha and all the spirits and deities, _Arthur's back!_

Merlin recognises now the strange dream he had five years ago about Arthur for what it was: his magic trying to tell him about the reincarnation of his other half. He was stupid for not realizing it sooner, but it doesn't matter because he knows it now, has seen it with his very eyes, has even talked to him – while he's a child, okay, but he won't be that for long. He'll grow up, and hopefully be less of the prat he was when Merlin first met him and more like the amazing King he'd grown up to be… and Merlin will be there. He will stand right by his side. Again.

Always.

When he finally reaches Ralph and Linda's home, he all but tears open the front door and storms into the house. Gone is the long beard and grey hair, gone is the wrinkled old face – the glamour has melted off of him even without Merlin noticing it, like his sheer joy was making him young again. He races inside while crying out a happy "I'm baaack!", scaring the living soul out of poor Bonnie who's setting the table in the dining room.

"Sweet Heavens, Merlin!" the woman shrieks as soon as he recognises the warlock. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Merlin doesn't – _can't,_ really – say a word; he just rushes to her and hugs her for all he's worth. Bonnie looks questioningly at him, but returns the embrace. "Weren't you supposed to be home the day after tomorrow?"

Merlin can't answer, because two voices starts yelling happily and in a second he feels the excited children make their way to him and jump up to his lap. "Uncle, you're back earlier!"

"Uncle Merlin, how come you're here?"

"Have you bought us something?"

"Get off him, Mike, I can't hug him!"

"Shut up, Agg, he's my uncle just as much as he's yours!"

"But he likes me bette–"

"Hush now, little ones!" Bonnie says, laughing, as she separates the lovely little leeches from Merlin. "Let him catch his breath!"

But Merlin can't, he really can't because the high from meeting the new Arthur is still so fresh that the grin is plastered to his face from ear to ear, and he's so full with emotions that the world seems sparkling around him, singing, dancing, glittering, pulsing and beaming. When Linda and Ralph come out of the kitchen to shower him with some surprised exclamations ("Oh, so that was this loud shouting about! Welcome home, Merlin!"), the warlock really thinks that he will faint in any second.

The wait is over. Never again does he have to spend nights with musing about how many years or decades or centuries must he live through before it finally happens. Because it _has happened_ – and he doesn't quite believe how amazing it feels. And how even _more _amazing it is that he has people around with whom he can share his happiness.

"What's this big grin for?" Bonnie asks finally, flashing a loving and curious smile at the warlock, and Merlin can't hold back the overjoyed laugh that wants to bubble out of his throat anymore – so he doesn't.

"He's back!"

* * *

**Thank you for reading the first installment of _f_eathers! If you liked it, please leave a feedback either here or on AO3 or my LJ.**

**Some quick end notes:**

**1) Let's just pretend that Merlin magically got ahold of a pre-release VHS of Disney's _Lady and the Tramp_ in 1983 (even though technically it wasn't available for home media until 1987), okay? **

**2) Also, let's pretend that the truck-scene of the Merlin finale took place in the eighties. :P **

**3) I don't know how many of you have noticed, but the Turner family is my tribute to the awesomeness of various animated feature films! I hereby list the films and characters from which I stole the names for the family members who made an appearance in this installment:**

**Walt Disney Animation Studios:** Alice Jones - Alice (_Alice in Wonderland_); Roger Bennett - Roger Radcliffe (_101 Dalmatians_); Ralph Turner - Wreck-It Ralph (_Wreck-It Ralph_); Raymond Turner - Ray (_The Princess and the Frog_)

**Pixar Animation Studio:** Helen Brown - Helen Parr (_The Incredibles_); Carl & Russell Bennett - Carl Fredricksen and Russell (_Up_); Bonnie Bennett - Bonnie (_Toy Story 3_); Michael Turner - Michael "Mike" Wazovsky (_Monsters Inc._)

**DreamWorks Animation SKG:** Jack Turner - Jack Frost (_The Rise of the Guardians_)

**Blue Sky Studios:** Linda Green - Linda Gunderson (_Rio_)

**Studio Ghibli:** Sophie Thompshon - Sophie Hatter (_Howl's Moving Castle_)

**Laika:** Agatha Turner - Agatha Prenderghast (_ParaNorman_)

**More to come in main part #2! ;-)**


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